A match?
by temoc
Summary: A/U story!  13chapter story.
1. Chapter 1

**Do not own anything!**

**A/U story!Different Century!  
><strong>

**A Match**

**Chapter 1**

What would you do for a Friend?

There could be no greater felicity, Miss Olivia Benson was certain, than a lounging day by the lake on her parents grounds. Especially with her favourite person in the world, Mr. Elliot Stabler.

One might call it impertinent, the way they spent time together, unaccompanied by any friend or maid, but Olivia found the implication that they were doing anything improper simply preposterous. Elliot had been her dearest – and at times, her only – friend since a young age.

And on a day like this, with the sunshine warm on their faces and a gentle breeze rustling through the nearby forest, she couldn't bother to think of such things. Nothing could destroy these moments.

Well, almost nothing.

"I have to get married," Elliot said miserably. His demeanour suggested complete calm – he sat sprawled in the grass, legs stretched out in front of him, supporting his weight with his hands behind him – but his eyes said something else.

Olivia swallowed. "W-why ever would you have to marry? You're only seventeen. No men marry so young."

Elliot sighed. "My parents, in their will, made it so that I would receive access to my full inheritance at age eighteen – but it would remain under the custody of my guardian until I married. I- I'm sure they thought they'd be preventing me from squandering the family fortune, but I don't think they considered who my guardians might _be_."

Unfortunately, Elliot had suffered a most tragic childhood. While just an toddler, his parents had been murdered by a man opposed to their political views and political power, called Lord Tucker. To add insult to injury, Elliot's godfather, Lord Munch , had been framed for the murder and imprisoned for nine years – until he escaped and revealed the real culprit to Elliot. Unfortunately, Lord Munch died shortly- later while engaged in a fight with one of Lord Tucker's supporters. Elliot had been devastated.

With his legally appointed guardian in prison for murder and his dead, Elliot had been forced to live with his last remaining relatives, the Freud's family. Mrs. Freud's was Elliot's father's only sister, married to a decently well-off businessman.  
>They had two sons, both exceedingly rotund and ill-mannered, named Benjamin and Doyle. Mr. and Mrs. Freud´s indulged their sons extravagantly while giving Elliot barely enough to live on. Only by chance Elliot found out not only about his fortune, but about his true nature. Elliot was a Lord, just as his parents had been.<p>

So there they sat on that lovely May afternoon, thinking about how his life would change when he would turn 18 and receive his fortune on the last day of August that year. Until then the greedy Freud's would maintain the control over it until he married.

Olivia felt her heart grow heavy. Elliot was too young to marry – _she_ wasn't ready for him to marry, because when he did, their friendship as she knew it would die. They'd never be able to sit together like this again…indeed, they'd probably not be alone in each other's presence for the rest of their lives. And what if Elliot´s wife didn't approve of their friendship?Would they be able to maintain any sort of relationship at all?

"Have…have you any prospects?" Olivia asked, eager to know whom all Elliot's attention would soon be devoted to.

Elliot sighed, brushing his hand trough his hair.

"I'd always wanted to marry for love, as my father did. It's not as if I need worry about money – or at least, I hadn't thought I would, and…where's the sense in bowing to the demands of society only to be miserable the rest of my life? I find, however, that…I've never felt anything more than a fleeting fancy for any woman. All my contemplations have led me to only one conclusion…and that is that you are and always have been the woman I care most for in the world."

The candour of Elliot's words stunned Olivia into speechlessness, and she felt tears prick at her eyes as Elliot turned his body and his gaze fully to her.

"I've thought long and hard on this matter before confiding in you…I could not ask anyone else, Olivia. I – I cannot promise love, nor, do I believe, can you, but…we have such similar dispositions that I believe we could live quite comfortably together, and I would endeavour in every way to make you happy. If you long for something more, some deeper affection, then I will take no offense at your rejection, but…but if you feel as I do, that you could be content to spend the rest of your life with a man that holds you in the highest regard as his dearest friend, then perhaps…perhaps you would consent to marry me?"

His speech was bumbling and a little boyish, but as usual, Olivia was impressed with his simple sincerity. Her mind buzzed with his words as she sat beside him in the grass, knees drawn up to her chest underneath the standard, basic white frock all girls wore today. So unexpected was his proposal that she couldn't begin to think of an answer.

Olivia swallowed."Will you…will you be willing to accept my reply tomorrow?"

"Of course," Elliot said, blushing and gazing intently at his rather scuffed up shoes. "I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable."

"No, not at all – you've only taken me by surprise," Olivia said as she stood and readied herself to return to the house. Honestly, she was flustered beyond belief and could only make a vague affectation of calmness, but she tried nonetheless.

"Let me escort you back," Elliot said, jumping up and offering his arm with all his usual chivalry. Olivia smiled and accepted, feeling as always a deep sense of affection for the young man, and wondering if she could accept the life he offered her.

Olivia spent that evening awake with her thoughts. While she did not believe herself to be in love with Elliot, and nor could she be sure that she ever would – and even still, while she knew Elliot did not and probably would not ever love her – he was one of two man´s in the world Olivia truly respected – the other being her father. And knowing Elliot's character as she did, she felt sure he'd be nothing less than a devoted and kind husband, which was more than many a woman could ask for. He was right; they could live quite comfortably together, and though she hated to admit it, the match would be most advantageous. In marrying him, she could save him from destitution and secure her own future at the same time.

Still, Olivia blanched at the thought of forever. If she married Elliot, that would be permanent. She would lose forever any chance she had of finding love…true love. Thought outwardly pragmatic and rational, Olivia had always harboured an inner sense of romanticism, a dream of a man that would love her passionately and respect both her intelligence and her longing for independence.

Olivia had long chided herself for such silly fantasies, however, believing them to be girlish and impractical. As difficult as such long-rooted desires were to uproot, she felt she must. What if true love never came, and she lived a life of poverty and loneliness waiting for it?

When she could have been comfortable, and…happy, with Elliot. What more could she ask for, than a lifetime spent in the company of her dearest friend? He had, at least, never tried to tame her like most men had, had never asked her to be meek and ignorant of the world around her. Unlike everyone else in the world (or so it seemed to Olivia), Elliot had never wished her to confine her learning to do the household and other or other such insane things. Even her unconditional love in reading was something he said, he liked about her.

Surely Elliot would continue to grant her great freedom as his wife…and could there really be another man in the world so compatible to her nature that would allow her half the liberty Elliot would?

And…and if they were married, nobody would question their behaviour around one another any longer…theirs could be as affectionate a friendship as they liked, with all the privacy they'd often longed for.

She would never have to give him up, she realized. Their friendship could last…interminably. Unless, of course, she refused him, and he was forced to choose another wife – leaving her quite alone in wait for something better, something that might never come.

By sunrise, she had made her decision.

The next day, Elliot asked her to walk with him. They strolled around the lake in silence, and finally stopped at Olivia's favourite tree, where she often sat reading, and where Elliot often sat with her in companionable silence.

She turned to him, meeting his anticipatory gaze readily. "If you feel quite certain that I am the woman you wish to take as your wife, then I will gladly consent."

Elliot smiled, a broad, unreserved smile. "I am certain, and…so very pleased. I can think of no better life's companion, nor any better Mistress of Stablers Manor, than you. We will have a happy life, I know it. If you give me leave, I'll write your father this very moment. I'm afraid I did not quite have the courage to ask his consent beforehand."

"Yes, of course," Olivia replied, holding back a chuckle, and she was only blushing slightly as he rushed back to the house.

The next day, Elliot received her father's reply letter, which gave his hearty consent to the match, provided Olivia was willing, which she promptly wrote him to say that she was.

The wedding was set to be held in late June at the Benson's House, after which they would honeymoon at the Munch Manor in New York and then settle in at Stabler´s Manor. All of their friends were informed of the engagement, and for the next month, Olivia barely saw her fiancé. Both where busy with their engagements , and while Olivia was trapped in gown fittings, Elliot was preparing his estate for their inhabitance.

Meanwhile, rumours circulated heavily about the reasons for their marrying. None but Elliot and Olivia knew of his precarious financial situation, so naturally, all rumours were completely untrue. Many whispered in the streets that they were forced into the marriage by the consequences of their time spent alone together, an assumption that they knew that Olivia would be dismissed in nine months. Others claimed that Olivia played games on him to gain his heart – or his money. Still, there was a small contingent of romantics that insist that Elliot and Olivia were deeply, passionately in love and had been for some time. Olivia wished the last were truer, but quickly dismissed such thoughts. She was very lucky to have a man such as Elliot for her husband, and she would be happy with that.

Olivia had little time for second thoughts or doubts, however, as her wedding day arrived with alarming speed. No sooner that the ink had dried on her engagements and pre-nub papers, it seemed, than she was pulled into her dressing room the morning of the ceremony.

The event itself was performed with simplicity and economy, sealed with the chastest of kisses that never the less left Olivia's lips tingling oddly afterwards. She gave this sensation to the novelty of the act of kissing, and for the duration of their wedding breakfast, felt comfortably at ease in the presence of her best friend.

Not until she and Elliot were in the carriage bound for New York, did Olivia begin to contemplate the wifely duties she would be expected to perform that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**How many are reading this story and review? :/ **

**Not really encouraging for a writer to write more...  
><strong>

**A big thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

Duties

The House of the Munch's was a fine town house in a slightly disreputable part of New York. Luckily, the loving details in which the house was furnished, had a way of making the disreputable avoidable, and so, the house left almost nothing to be desired. The house was run by one reluctantly Butler named James.

Elliot had inherited the house upon his godfather's death and had been quite reluctant to set foot in it until recently. Extensive refurbishing and redecorating had left the place barely recognizable from Lord Munch's days, however, and when they entered the house from their bridal carriage, Elliot's demeanour showed no misgivings.

James appeared to collect their coats and hats the moment the two stepped into the foyer, and a moment later, all their belongings (along with James and the coats) disappeared, presumably headed upstairs.

"Come," Elliot said. "Let me show you to your room – which, I might add, is located conveniently near the library."

Olivia laughed. "This was your plan all along, was it not? To take a mad wife and keep her locked away in the library?"

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," Elliot said with a smirk."Although," he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I have added a considerable number of volumes since your last visit."

Olivia grinned as he led her to a room across from the library on the second floor, presumably next to his own bedchamber, from the looks of things. Olivia entered to find her belongings already in place, and was astonished at how beautifully the room had been decorated. The walls were a pretty, sedate shade of sage green, and the furniture was of a lovely dark wood. The four-poster bed looked particularly magnificent, with a white bed cover embroidered with elaborate vines of ivy.

"Is – is it to your liking?" Elliot asked, almost shyly, from the doorway.

Olivia turned to him with a smile. "Oh, yes – yes, of course. It's lovely."

"Well," Elliot said, "Should you want for anything, you need only say the word. And you need only call, of course, should you require James. I – I'll be next door. I'll…see you at supper, then?"

Olivia nodded, and was left alone for the first time since their marriage.

Feeling inexplicably lonely, Olivia sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Her emotions were exceedingly puzzling to her; her despondency was without due cause. Her wedding had been happy, and their trip to New York had been peaceful and pleasant. Nor had anything changed for the worse in her relationship with Elliot. Indeed, they bantered much as they always had, and he was, as usual, kind and gentlemanly. What could have possibly changed to leave her so listless?

Perhaps that was the problem, then, it occurred to her. Today she was a married woman, a wife, and she felt as though nothing had changed since her visit to the House of Munch's the previous summer. She felt no different; her husband treated her no differently than he had the day before, or months before, when an engagement had been far from their minds.

She was being silly, was she not? What, precisely, had she expected to change? Had she expected a more affectionate side from the man that was now her husband? He had never been the sort to display his emotions openly, even to one whose confidence he sought as readily as hers. Should Elliot have showered her with affection, then she would have had cause to feel uneasy.

Nevertheless, she realized, she had hoped, in some distant part of her heart, that their wedding would somehow magically turn them into a loving couple.

She could not believe she had allowed herself to be so ridiculous, especially without her notice.

With a sigh at her lapse into silliness, Olivia turned her attention to her trunk, where she searched for one of the new gowns she had had made for her new life as a married woman.

Olivia was nothing if not pragmatic, and if this wasn't the perfect marriage, then she would make the most of it, like all the other strong women of her time. In fact, she decided, as she took out a lovely, pale blue frock, she would excel at married life, as she did at every endeavor she undertook. She would give Elliot no cause to regret taking her as his wife.

Invigorated by her newly re-evaluated attitude, Olivia wasted no more time in calling James to help her change.

"You look lovely," Elliot said as he escorted her to the dining room.

"Thank you," she said, wondering if his compliments held more significance, now that they were married. He'd always been somewhat complimentary toward her, although he lacked the self-assurance to pay such attentions to other young ladies. Although she'd never doubted the sincerity of his words, she generally thought his compliments to be of a brotherly nature, more observation than admiration. Could his words be out of a different kind of affection for her now, or was she silly to expect any change at all?

Elliot helped her into her seat and moved to sit across from her. The table seemed extraordinarily large with only the two of them sitting at it.

"Have you any diversions in mind for tomorrow, Olivia?" Elliot asked as the first course was served.

"No, I must admit, I had not thought much beyond today's activities," Olivia replied, wondering at her new husband's utter placidity. Was he not unsettled at all by what was to come?

"Did you fear you would not live through the day?" Elliot asked, grinning.

"Certainly not. I simply did not seek to plan for a day whose events I could not reasonably foresee. I had no idea what married life would require of me."

Elliot smiled. "I believe the purpose of the honeymoon is to postpone the requirements of married life, Miss Benson."

"You forget, I am Mrs. Stabler now," Olivia said, unexpectedly injured by the misnomer.

"Forgive me," Elliot said hastily. "I have not forgotten – I merely spoke with the impulse of familiarity. "Indeed," he added with an odd look about his face, "You are Mrs. Stabler now."

A moment of silence passed, filled with unspoken thoughts as a house-maid delivered the second course.

"Well," Elliot spoke eventually, "New York is never without its entertainments. I am sure we will uncover something to amuse us. Or we may stay in, if it would please you. I know you find society almost as irksome as I do."

"Indeed. We shall see what tomorrow affords," Olivia said.

Little else of consequence was discussed during their late supper, and at last, they retired – this done with no little trepidation on Olivia's part and apparent ease by Elliot.

Olivia's unease turned to complete confusion when Elliot bid her goodnight at her bedroom door. While she hadn't been entirely sure as to how the consummation of their marriage was to be initiated, she certainly didn't believe it could begin with the words "good night."One didn't say such a thing to a person he expected to see before morning, surely.

Frowning, Olivia entered her dressing room and prepared for bed. Once in her bedchamber, wearing a pretty and rather impractical nightgown, Olivia sat on her bed, wondering what was to be done.

Perhaps Elliot had bid her good night only as a formality, and would come to her when he was ready.

Or, perhaps, he expected her to come to him. The few married girls she knew had not hesitated to inform her of the nature of a wife's duties, which did include the act Olivia was currently worrying over.

After several minutes of deliberation and rather ferocious gnawing at her bottom lip, Olivia decided she would go to Elliot and get to the bottom of this…business. Surely, if she and Elliot were expected to commit this act as husband and wife, it should not be at all improper for them to speak of it in private chambers.

That settled, Olivia wasted no time in going to the door that adjoined their bedchamber's and knocking – perhaps a little more sharply than she ought to have.

"Olivia?" she heard him inquire through the door.

"Yes," she said. Olivia wondered just who he expected to be at that particular door, especially at such an hour.

"Er – come in."

Olivia turned the knob only to find darkness on the other side. Elliot had already extinguished his candle and, as far as she could tell, had made his way into bed.

"I – I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, stepping tentatively into the room, "but I'm a little…er…perplexed."

The bedclothes rustled as Elliot sat up. "Well, come here and tell me what is troubling you."

Olivia padded barefoot over to his bed and sat hesitantly. She was grateful now for the darkness, for it meant Elliot would not be able to see her blush as she attempted to explain herself.

"As I said, I'm a bit perplexed because…well, I've been told that upon one's wedding night, it is…er…customary, to consummate the marriage, and…well, we don't appear to be doing that."

Elliot's reaction was a rather audible intake of breath.

"I – I did not think you would…_want_ to…er…consummate," Elliot said. "Until such time as you wanted to have children, of course. Presuming you want to have children at all."

"I did not think I had a choice," Olivia replied truthfully.

"Well…you certainly ought to. As I'm sure you've heard, it is…quite painful for a lady, the first time, and I do not wish to inflict that upon you until it is necessary."

"I see," Olivia said, although she felt as befuddled as ever. "And…when shall we have children?"

"When you wish to," Elliot said. "I assumed you would want time to settle in before you…became with child. But when the time is right, you need only tell me – if, in fact, you wish to have my children."

Olivia frowned into the darkness. "And just who else's children am I to have? Besides, you must have an heir. I can't bear the thought of your awful cousins inheriting everything."

Elliot gave a slight snort of laughter. "Actually, since the estates are protected by law, they will go to my nearest living relative…but then, that's probably not much better. I don't yet know who the closest relative is, but it's sure to be a member of one of the old families – we're all interconnected, as it is. Perhaps we do need an heir, lest the estate land in the hands of a Porter."

"Indeed, you must have an heir," Olivia agreed, suppressing a shudder at the thought of the Stabler name dying and its wealth falling prey to a character so unsavoury as a Porter.

Elliot patted her hand that rested on the bed cover. "All will be managed in due time, Olivia. For now, you should rest. It has been an eventful day."

Olivia nodded and returned to her own bedchamber, wondering why, exactly, she felt so disappointed when she should have felt relieved.

xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Time to bring villain into the story :D  
>Big thx to my reviewers!<br>...and to the rest - what th... oh someone just ripped the keyboard away from me!^^**

Dinner Guests

The next morning a letter arrived over breakfast from Mr. Fin Tutuola, a good friend to Elliot during their time at school and, by association, to Olivia as well (although indeed a bit less to Olivia – she had always found him a bit uninteresting, to be truthful, but because of Elliot's unfailing good judgement of character, respected him, so Olivia did as well). As it happened, Mr. Tutuola was currently in New York with his stepsister, Miss Katherine Malone-Tutuola.

Miss Katherine was a charming and beautiful girl of sixteen years, but unfortunately for her, those were the only inducements a gentleman might have to marrying her. All oft the Tutuolas were a family of no rank and so little money that they were nearly impoverished. Their father was employed with the Government, but he lacked the social standing to obtain a position that would provide for his four children – the youngest of which were the two mentioned above.

As a result of their situation, Katherine had long been in pursuit of an advantageous marriage, and had set her eyes on Elliot the moment she'd learned of his wealth and his inclination to marry for love. Olivia wondered if she might have succeeded, had circumstances allowed her more time to use her womanly wiles on Elliot.

"Where are they staying?" Olivia asked as Elliot perused the letter.

"With friends at the moment," Elliot said. "They're stopping a few days on their journey home."

"You should invite them to dine with us," said Olivia.

"But it is our honeymoon. Should we not be languishing in each other's company for the time being?"

"On the contrary, I dare say you'll tire of me prematurely if you languish too much," Olivia remarked wryly, although she recognized a small part of her heart that asked for reassurance with such a comment.

"Nonsense," Elliot replied. "I could never tire of your company. But I should like to see them before we go to Stablers Manor. If you do not mind, I would like to extend an invitation."

"Of course I would not mind," she said, somewhat appeased.

The Tutuolas accepted their invitation, and Elliot and Olivia passed the rest of the day quietly in the library. Usually a voracious reader, Olivia found herself lacking focus this day, taking in little of the volume in her hands. Her thoughts were not on the book, but rather, the young man no more than five feet away that she'd married yesterday.

The entire event and following hours had been so quick and surreal that the reality of Olivia's new life had not struck her – until their wedding night, when her new husband had turned her away from his bed.

Olivia had not thought much about making love to her husband beyond the usual anxieties that attend every virginal bride – of not knowing how to behave, of having to bare one's body to a man for the first time, of the pain that might accompany the act. So consumed was Olivia by these concerns that it had never occurred to her that she and Elliot might not undertake the act at all. Now she had to wonder why.

Elliot had given his reasons, and they were quite difficult to contradict. Olivia had no doubt that he genuinely did not want to cause her pain, but she felt sure that was not the whole truth. After all, they would have to get it over with eventually – Why, then, did they not go ahead and do it on their wedding night like every other married couple?

Perhaps Elliot was postponing the inevitable not solely for her sake, but for his as well. Perhaps he dreaded it as much as she.

Or at least as much as she ought to have, as a proper young lady, but as much as she'd worried over the idea, she'd been…excited. That highly guarded act was the stuff of whispered conversations and subtle innuendo – how could a curious young woman like Olivia not wish to have that forbidden knowledge?

Nevertheless, the extent of her disappointment had been disproportional to her curiosity, and Olivia could no longer attempt to hide from herself the reasons for this. In the darkest recesses of her heart, Olivia had held on to the hope that she would find passion in her husband's bed, even if she and her husband admittedly did not love each other. To be truthful, she'd imagined that an act so intimate could lead to love. This could never happen, however, if her husband did not wish to touch her…if he did not find her at all attractive…if their relationship was forever restricted to the platonic realms of their minds and never allowed to touch the physical.

There in lay Olivia's disappointment, and she could not have felt more ridiculous. As a woman who prided herself on her rationality and despised the over-emotional, histrionic behaviour of many ladies, Olivia could not stand having such an irrelevant train of thought taking such firm hold of her mind. It did not matter, after all, if her husband did not find her attractive, she did not find him attractive, either – or did she?

Olivia glanced over the top of her book at Elliot, who seemed as usual so infuriatingly calm in the face of her confusion. He did have a very striking countenance, with his startlingly blue eyes and jet black hair. She supposed she did find him handsome, in his own way. His hair was short and he had a strong jaw and rather muscular elegant features. In growing up with him, she'd hardly noticed. She'd first seen him as an underfed child, but he'd long since grown into a man…a handsome, amiable man who could have easily swept her off her feet if he'd ever tried.

Yes, there was the rub, Olivia realized with a sigh. Elliot had never once tried to win her. He hadn't wanted to, and it was possible that he'd never needed to, either.

Eventually Elliot and Olivia went their separate ways from the library to dress for company, and shortly after, a house-maid entered the drawing room, where they waited, to announce the `Tutuolas' arrival.

Olivia and Elliot stood as they entered, Fin with his usual bow that always came out looking rather whimsical to Olivia, and Miss Katherine with a graceful curtsy. Olivia immediately realized that the two did not share the same purpose in visiting – Fin looked as he always had at school, resigned if not satisfied with the shabby clothing that was the bane of his existence. His idea of the visit was a friendly call. Miss Katharine, on the other hand, looked to Olivia rather like a peacock in search of a mate, even if that metaphor was for the wrong gender. Although her garb was, too, a little shabby, it was clear to Olivia– if not to the men – that she had made every effort to be as noticeable as possible.

Olivia bristled inwardly as she outwardly exchanged the usual pleasantries. What was the girl thinking, dressing in such a manner to visit a married couple? She would find no eligible bachelors here – which suggested she meant to steal a husband instead.

Did she mean to become Elliot mistress? Even through her insecurities, Olivia knew Elliot would never dare consider an annulment or – even more unthinkably – a divorce…but could he be tempted to take a mistress? And what an insult, for Miss Katherine to presume Elliot to be in want of a woman other than his wife the day after his wedding! Did Miss Katherine really believe Olivia was as unappealing as that?

In an angry haze, Olivia went with the others into the dining room, where she seated herself across from her husband, and where Miss Katherine seated herself beside him.

Elliot, in the usual habit of males, was completely insensible of the battle being waged over him, as was Mr. Tutuola as generally oblivious to all but food, sport, and fine bosoms.

The first course was served quickly, and before everyone had so much as the opportunity to pick up his or her silverware, Miss Katherine took control of the conversation.

"I hope, Mr. Stabler, that you aren't finding married life too dull. I mean no insult, of course, but I can't imagine there being much room for conversation with a wife who lives with her nose in a book."

Olivia bristled at this comment, but was determined not to show her discomfort. With such apparent disdain on Miss Katherine s part, it was hard to remember a time when they had been close to friendship. Indeed, there'd been great talk of affection and sisterhood – until Miss Katherine had come to understand that Olivia could not be persuaded to humour the odd fancy Mr. Tutuola had taken to her at the time (which had long since passed) or to give up her strong friendship with Elliot. Their acquaintance had gradually decreased from intimacy to civility to cold formality, and had upon Olivia's marriage to Elliot turned to open hostility.

"Quite the contrary," Elliot replied coolly. "Mrs. Stablers reading provides her with such a wealth of information on such a variety of subjects that we never want for conversation. I'm glad to have such a wife. So many young ladies these days seem to have nothing but gossip and ball gowns in their heads."

Olivia alone could be capable of perceiving the true anger that lay beneath Elliot's composed response, and this knowledge was deeply gratifying to her. Although she cared little about Miss Katherine`s opinion of her suitability as a wife, Elliot respect and esteem were essential to her, and that Elliot showed no signs of agreeing with Miss Katherine or favouring her in any way was deeply reassuring.

"I know exactly what you mean," Mr. Tutuola contributed. "Why, I wouldn't mind having Mrs. Stabler as a wife at all if I didn't hate libraries so much."

"I'll be generous to your character and assume you meant to make a compliment," Olivia said archly.

"Oh, you know me well enough to know I meant no insult," he said. "I was only trying to say that your intelligence and knowledge are very amiable qualities to have in a wife."

Before Olivia could respond, Miss Katherine attempted to turn the conversation in her favour once more.

"If intelligence is such a superb quality in a wife, why is it that you young men do not chase after all the intelligence woman instead you're always flirting with the dumb ones?"

Elliot smiled thinly. "We may act irrationally, but let me assure you, most men do not want silly wives."

Miss Katherine quickly changed the subject after that remark.

Elliot and Olivia wearily mounted the stairs after bidding the Tutuolas goodnight.

"What on earth was the matter with Miss Katherine this evening?" Elliot asked. "I thought you had been friends."

Olivia pursed her lips. "I suppose I had been convenient to her at one time, before she realized I wouldn't help her, but never friends, not really."

Elliot frowned. "Help her with what?"

"Getting you, of course."

"Me?" Elliot said with some alarm. "What can you mean?"

"She meant to have your hand – and your fortune, I'm sure – in marriage. Don't tell me you never noticed her behaviour around you – every girl in school knew what she was after."

"I had no notion of it. Are all young ladies so conniving?"

"Of course not," Olivia said with a small smile. "Some just have…different priorities…and some are more desperate than others."

"So Miss Katherine is angry with you for marrying me. Seems a little petty if it was my fortune she was after. There are plenty of rich men to marry."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Oh, Elliot, really, how many rich men do you know that would marry a woman with no fortune and no connections?"

"That is a good point. But Miss Katherine will have to withstand her disappointment. I've found my wife."

At this point, they had reached Olivia's bedchamber door, and Elliot turned to her with a smile. "Goodnight."

And then he surprised her very much indeed by doing something he had never done before. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

With befuddled thoughts, Olivia watched him walk away, and she would have given anything to know what was in his head in that moment.

x


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**Thx to my reviewers. You keep me going :)  
>We get to see a bit of Elliots point of view!<strong>

Stablers Manor

The rest of their honeymoon passed as uneventfully as it had begun, and soon Elliot and Olivia were safely ensconced in the carriage on the journey to Stablers Manor, which was about two hours outside New York – a very convenient distance, although they were not likely to take advantage of their closeness to New York very often.

Elliot was deep in thought during this trip, while Olivia amused herself with a book across from him. She seemed, as usual, perfectly, frustratingly, at ease, but Elliot could not be so easy.

Long before their wedding night, Elliot had resolved not to force Olivia to share a bed with him if she did not wish it. His sensibilities would not allow it – he could not take pleasure in an act that would bring her such pain, nor would he have her engage in the act solely out of feelings of obligation.

Elliot would never admit to anyone but himself that his resolve had, in fact, wavered when Olivia had taken the initiative to come to him. He hadn't been prepared for her to knock on his bedchamber door, nor had he been at all prepared for the vision she had presented in the moonlight, with her hair loose in a riot of curls around her face and her thin white gown flowing about her. He'd been able, for the first time, to see the curves of her body, and he'd been tempted. He'd been sorely tempted.

When he'd seen her anxiety, however, all such thoughts were quelled. For a brief moment, he'd been entertaining thoughts of passionate kisses and his wife's heated embrace – but he quickly realized there could be no such thing. Olivia would be scared, uncomfortable at first…and eventually in pain. The thought of tears on her face effectively destroyed any and all fantasies of blissful lovemaking.

He decided then and there that he would never lay a hand on her unless she wanted his touch as much as he wanted to touch her.

When Olivia left his bedchamber that night, he thought the danger had passed. Even in his naivety, he should have known better, for the next day at breakfast, he found that Olivia had not become once more a simple friend in the light of day. If anything, the light had served to show him the tanned glow of her skin and the streaks of bronze in her hair.

Elliot soon discovered that his heart must have known something he did not in urging him to propose to Olivia. Indeed, when Miss Katherine had attempted to insult her, the truth had finally sunk in that Olivia _was_ his wife, and he had no regrets or doubts on that score. Olivia was his wife, and he was glad, because no one but Olivia would be the right one.

Unfortunately, Elliot now had a problem that he could not see any solution to. He was lusting after her– maybe, perhaps, was even in love with her – his wife, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Elliot was glad that, upon his first going to live at Stablers Manor, Olivia came with him. The place was little more familiar to him than it was to her, and the thought of trying to be master of an estate where the people had been going about their business without him for eighteen years was an intimidating one indeed (the estate had been in the hands of a Mr. Cragen since his parents' deaths, a good friend to them and for all intents and purposes, Elliot's second godfather). With Olivia, however, who was so innately bright, just, and logical, he felt he could not do anything to terribly wrong – not with her to guide him.

He thought, as their destination grew near, that he saw a bit of nervousness in Olivia`s countenance as well, but he could not be sure this was not mere wishful thinking on his part. Nevertheless, this thought did serve a useful purpose – it made him determined to show no discomfort on his part, to be stronger and braver, for her sake, so that she might lean on him in starting her new life.

That was a great cause of his anxiety, he had to admit – that Olivia might be unhappy in her new home, that she would not be pleased with Stablers Manor. He knew she was not the sort of woman to be concerned with the expensiveness of the drapes, but he had nonetheless spent a great deal of time and effort decorating the house to her taste. He wanted her to be absolutely enchanted with the place, so that she would never long for any other home or regret – due to domestic dissatisfaction – marrying him.

There was one room in particular that Elliot felt sure Olivia would fall in love with, and that, of course, was the library. Generations of the Stabler family going back centuries had contributed to the massive collection – which now filled the room from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall with volumes. Evidently, the Stabler line had been full of voracious readers, especially amongst the females (including Elliot's own mother), and full of spouses willing to humour them. Elliot had a feeling he, too, would be buying a great number of books for his voracious reader.

The rest of the house, however, he wasn't as sure about. He'd tried his very best to furnish the common areas and her chambers as amenably to her taste as possible, but he doubted his abilities as a decorator and wondered if he'd guessed her preferences correctly at all.

Nothing more could be done, however, as their carriage had come to a stop.

The Stabler estate was a rather large manor – larger than Olivia had been expecting, to be sure. The great stone edifice was fine and stately, with the kind of elegance that withstands the tides of fashion. Olivia was immediately impressed with it.

A man came out to meet them, with grey hair and eyes of almost the same hue, whom Olivia recognized as Mr. Cragen, who had been a good friend to the Stablers. Unfortunately, Olivia had never had the luxury of meeting him, until now.

"Donald," Elliot greeted him happily. "Meet my wife."

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Stabler," he said with a bow. "I've heard great reports of your intelligence."

Olivia blushed. "I'm amazed anyone's been making reports about me at all." She was tempted to tell him that she'd heard good things of him as well, and that she wished she could have been in his course, but she couldn't be certain that he wouldn't find it improper, so she said nothing else.

"Well, you shouldn't be surprised that I've been making such reports," Elliot interjected. "And you ought to know it's quite true, or else you're not as intelligent as I thought you were."

Olivia could only laugh at him. "You flatter me too much, but as I know you'll never stop, I'll just have to advise everyone to pay you no attention."

"My wife is quite silly," Elliot said conspiratorially to Cragen. "I think I may have to lock her up in the attic."

"What a waste of a good wife that would be."

"Yes, you're right," Elliot said with a grin. He turned to Olivia and offered his arm."Come, let me show you the house."

Olivia nodded her agreement and took his arm, and he led her up the steps and through the fine, sturdy doors into the manor's grand entryway. Her eyes landed first on the main, marble-lined staircase, which was wide at the bottom and curved upward to the second floor. Her eyes slid down to the floor, a warm shining tile, and then up to the high ceiling.

"It's magnificent," Olivia managed, overwhelmed as she was. Although she'd known that the Stablers family was old and wealthy, she'd never imagined the scale of grandeur now before her.

Elliot smiled and led her to the dining room, through the kitchen, over to the drawing room, and up to her bedchamber, all of which she found equally impressive. Finally, with the air of an excited child dragging along a parent to see his latest accomplishment, Elliot took her to the library, which seemed to cover an entire wing of the house.

"Prepare yourself," he said with a grin, before opening the door and gesturing her inside.

Olivia was struck first with the sheer size of the room, which was easily twice the length of the library at her old school. She then realized that every wall was covered floor to ceiling with bookshelves, separated only by windows, and those shelves were all entirely filled.

"Good heavens, Elliot, why did you never mention _this_?" she asked, turning with wonder to his satisfied smile.

"Those aren't even half the collection," he told her.

"There must be thousands," Olivia breathed, taking in the many rows of leather-bound volumes.

"Just over ten thousand," Elliot confessed. "My family's collected a combination of many titles over at least seven centuries."

Olivia swallowed. "I dare say you'll never have to buy me another book for the rest of our lives."

Elliot chuckled. "Oh, no. I have a family tradition to uphold, haven't I? Far be it from me to refuse the convenience of a well-read wife to expand the collection."

Olivia laughed. "Well, at the very least, you've found a way to keep me busy indeed."

The comforts of Stablers Manor were so extensive that Olivia felt very guilty indeed for being at all discontent in her marriage. Her bed alone was a feather-stuffed, silk-sheeted piece of heaven, and every furnishing, tapestry, and carpet in the house was nothing short of beautiful. The house maids were the most loyal and skilled in the country, and thanks to their service, the house was always in perfect order and the food, right down to the daily bread, was magnificent. Olivia`s home with her parents had been comfortable, to be sure, but this…this was a level of luxury heretofore unknown to Olivia.

Elliot often seemed surprised by the richness of their lifestyle as well, even as the master of the estate, and each day saw them discussing some new and unexpected facet of their living.

Olivia found no shortage of amusement at the Manor, either. Elliot had devised for her a lovely little nook in the library where she could read in comfort for hours on end, and when she tired of this, she could explore the grounds, which were as extensive as the library and as beautiful as any other part of the home. Every day she found a new path to explore and some new natural beauty along the way. If these weren't enough to hold her attention, she had ample opportunity to practice drawing or playing the piano forte, should she wish it – practices she had abandoned in childhood but found herself returning to, finding comfort in the practice of the arts.

Unlike many married couples, she and Elliot spent a great portion of each day together, conversing or pursuing any number of activities in companionable silence. She wondered if this was less a product of Elliot´s affection for her than an effect of his upbringing, which left him with little knowledge of sport and other typical masculine entertainments. Elliot did ride very well, and devoted a part of every fair day to this activity, but otherwise, he remained indoors or walked the grounds with her.

Thus her married life began, and every evening, Olivia took to the soft warmth of her bed with some sort of satisfaction from the day.

Try as she might, however, she could not close her eyes without thinking of her husband, alone in the next room, and wondering if her marriage would ever be behind closed doors what it seemed in plain view.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**thx for the reviews. :)  
>watch out fot another villain!<br>but don´t forget Miss Katherine! She´ll be back...!**

The Long-Lost Cousin 

A little over a week after Elliot and Olivia moved in to Stabler´s Manor, an unexpected visitor came to call. They had been sitting in the drawing room while Elliot read a newspaper and Olivia attempted to draw the scene without Elliot's knowledge. She'd been forced to set aside her tablet when a house-maid ventured tentatively in.

"A Mr. Porter is here to see you, Masters."

Elliot and Olivia exchanged a look as they stood, both fearful that perhaps Sean Porter had come to call, a man who had once been one of Tuckers most loyal supporters, and who would most likely give anything to see the Stabler family in ruins once more.

Luckily, it was not Sean who swaggered in, but his son, Dean, who was just as cruel as his father but only half as clever.

Porter bowed lazily and smirked as he addressed them. "Mr. Stabler, Mrs. Stabler. I'm glad to see you so well settled."

"How kind of you to call on us, Mr. Porter. To what do we owe the pleasure?" Elliot asked with a sharp, sarcastic tone.

"Well," he replied, taking a seat without waiting to be offered one, "like the rest of the world, I must admit, I'm curious about our prominent new couple. After such a quickly formed engagement, you cannot be surprised that your…motives are in question."

Elliot and Olivia sat back down together. "I cannot see," Elliot said, "how our motives can be considered public information."

"Perhaps you have not yet acquainted yourself with all the particulars of the entailment of your estate, Mr. Stabler. In that case, your motives may become an issue," he said with a self-satisfied smile.

"What do you mean?" Elliot asked with a menacing narrowing of the eyes.

"In particular, I speak of the clause which states that a child conceived out of wedlock may not inherit," he said, eyeing Olivia crudely as he said this. Olivia frowned and curled herself inwardly as if to defend herself from his gaze.

"My wife," Elliot said angrily, "has always been irreproachable on the subject of virtue. I'm sure that shall not be a problem."

Porter laughed. "Perhaps not a problem for your wife, but you may find difficulties." He turned to Olivia and said, with a roguish wink, "Men need their entertainment, do they not?"

Had Olivia not felt the full meaning of his words, she might have made an outburst in defence of her husband. As it was, she understood that the insult was not to Elliot, but to her. She was not amusing enough, not beautiful enough, to retain her husband's attentions – that was the implication, and she could not be indignant because she wondered if it were true.

"I assure you," Elliot said harshly, "That will not be a problem, either. Why such interest in the affairs of my estate, Mr. Porter?"

Porter feigned surprise. "Are you not aware that our families are related, Mr. Stabler? We are cousins, and should you fail to produce a legitimate heir, it so happens that I stand in line to inherit. Family is a funny thing, is it not?"

"Indeed," Elliot said curtly, offering nothing more.

Porter, seemingly satisfied that he'd made his point, stood. "I will leave you now. I'm sure you have many…_pressing_ matters to attend to."

Elliot stood and bowed, but Olivia had not the presence of mind, and merely watched the man retreat from their drawing room.

Elliot startled her by calling in a house-maid as soon as the door had closed behind their visitor.

"Yes, Master?"

"Mr. Porter is not to enter this house again without my consent until he inherits it, should that be the case," Elliot told the maid, who squeaked her compliance before Elliot dismissed him.

Olivia watched her husband pace and spoke, with all due consideration to his temper, mildly, "Do you not think that measure extreme? To be sure, he is an impudent, unpleasant sort of man, but –"

"Loathe as I am to overestimate Porter, I do not believe he will be content to taunt us and leave us to sort out our affairs. I fear he means you bodily harm."

Olivia frowned. "I appreciate your concern, but surely he would find it more efficient to leave you incapacitated. I am, after all, only the means to an end – you may always find another wife to produce your heir."

Elliot grimaced. "True as that may be, I dare say Porter would find it more amusing to leave me with a wife that could not bear my children, but would live out many years. Please, do not quarrel with me, Olivia. I could not bear any injury coming to you because of my situation."

Olivia was touched by his anxiety on her behalf, but she knew a good opportunity when it crossed her path.

"Perhaps," she suggested, "you should continue to instruct me in self-defence."

Elliot was well-enough acquainted with her to know that the request was made more for the satisfaction of her curiosity than the alleviation of fear, but he did not question her, only offered her a knowing smile.

"If that would comfort you," Elliot said, and Olivia continued the ruse.

"It would."

"Very well," Elliot said, looking for all the world as if he would laugh at any moment. "We'll begin soon."

Olivia`s instruction did not begin the next day, much to her disappointment, because Elliot was otherwise engaged. Indeed, she did not see him at all between breakfast and supper. Elliot had gone with Mr. Cragen to begin to take over the management of the estate. Olivia would eventually take over the management of the household as well, which was currently in the hands of a very capable house-maid who seemed a little reluctant to share her duties with her mistress. Olivia insisted, but would try to proceed gradually.

Elliot returned in the evening with Mr. Cragen in tow, who stayed on to dine with them.

"Did you have an eventful day?" she asked them over a spoonful of soup.

"We did," Elliot said. "I've determined that Cragen`s been working far too hard these past 15 years."

Mr. Cragen laughed. "Oh, there's far worse work to be doing."

Cragen turned to Olivia. "I also hear you are interested in taking up the study of self-defence."

Olivia blushed and glanced at Elliot, who only grinned cheekily in return. Her very unladylike curiosity was well out in the open now, and she decided not to attempt to disguise it. "Yes, I…I must admit that I have long desired to make a full study of the matter, but have only now found the time and opportunity."

"If you wish it, Mrs. Stabler, I would be glad to assist your learning in any way possible. I think it unconscionable that we leave the ladies of our society unaware of the dangers surrounding them. It only intensifies the danger."

Olivia smiled, her regard for the man growing with every conversation they shared. "Thank you, Mr. Cragen I would be delighted to learn from you."

Thus, an agreement was made, and Olivia would have two defence instructors as soon as Cragen finished training Elliot in the maintenance of the estate.

"You have chosen very well in your wife," Cragen remarked after Olivia quit the drawing room, claiming tiredness. Elliot wondered if she were merely bored or longing to read something instead, but he sent her to bed with a smile anyway.

"I'm glad you think so," Elliot said sincerely. Cragen was the closest person Elliot had to a parent since the death of his true parents and his godfather, and Elliot valued his opinion dearly. He'd never had any doubts where Olivia was concerned, but hearing her praised was in a way gratifying to himself.

"Indeed," Cragen said. "She is a very practical, intelligent young lady. She rather reminds me of your mother, in fact."

"Really?" Elliot inquired, inching forward in his chair. "How so?"

"Your mother had the same thirst for information and independent spirit that your wife seems to be in possession of. She was equal to your father in every way, which, I believe, was exactly what he needed in a wife. She was the only lady that ever dared to challenge him, and he loved that in her. They were quite devoted to each other, once your mother finally accepted him."

"She initially refused him?" Elliot asked, alarmed.

"Oh, I'm sure your father seemed an arrogant dandy to many in his youth," Cragen chuckled, "But once your mother learned his true nature, she grew to love him as he did her."

Elliot smiled inwardly at that thought. If his mother had once loathed his father and grown to love him, perhaps there was hope for Olivia that one day she would love him. He was still not sure if his regard for her was love, exactly, but for some reason, he still wanted very much for her to love him, for both their sakes. He thought she would be happier if she were in love in her marriage, and Elliot wouldn't mind reciprocating her affection at all. It seemed a very pleasant notion.

Nevertheless, his mother had not known his father's true nature before she loved him, as Cragen said. What possible alteration could there be in her feelings for him if she already knew him better than anyone else did? What discovery could possibly sway her opinion of him?

He sighed to himself. There was nothing to be done; he knew that much, and that was the very fact that unsettled him the most. Of all things, Elliot was at the very least an aggressive personality. He had always been impatient, perhaps a little volatile, and waiting had never suited him when he could be acting. His restlessness in the face of this predicament was surpassed only by his cowardice.

Indeed, the brave Elliot Stabler was terrified of approaching his own wife. Oh, he conversed with her as easily as ever and maintained their friendship as well as ever, but in making a move toward furthering their relationship, he was petrified. He could not confide in her his newly formed and befuddled emotions, nor could he make any physical overture such as kissing her (which he longed very much to do. The one kiss he'd given to her cheek was nothing more than a teasing glimpse of what he did not currently have with her). He was most decidedly stuck, and he hated being stuck.

With a raised eyebrow and an unconcealed smirk, Cragen broke into Elliot's musings. "Lost in thoughts of your charming wife?" he teased.

Elliot only laughed and took a sip of the drink in his hand, leaving Cragen to assume whatever he liked. Cragen was correct in thinking that Elliot was quite enraptured with his new bride, but if he thought he had full knowledge of her charms, he would be completely incorrect. Unfortunately, those mysterious charms Elliot had yet to uncover ,were the ones most distracting to him.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6/of 13**

**Thx to my old and new reviewers. Really makes me happy to see that some people actually care about the work a writer puts into a story!****Reviews are really hard to get... why is that? It`s just 2 min of your time! **  
><strong>I finished this story yesterday, so updates could go rather quick. I go on holidays next week and I dunno if I should post all of the chapters until Tuesday- or wait until I come back.<br>mhmmmmmmmm!**

Motherly Advice

Olivia felt as though she were finally settling comfortably into married life. While Elliot was out learning all the minute workings of his estate, she was gradually taking on the duties of running a household. In most cases, she succeeded brilliantly. She was nothing if not practical, and on top of that, she was a compulsive planner. Managing a house was nothing. The servants, however, were another matter.

Olivia tried her best to be kind to the house-maids in her service, but they seemed to take great offence at everything she did. If she gave them compliments, they were likely to burst into tears. If she offered them more time off and pay, they only starred at her in horror. Olivia found this behaviour all very alarming and couldn't understand why they didn't want to have more freedom. Olivia determined that they had been persuaded to like slavery, and made it her mission to educate them as to the true nature of their condition.

Unfortunately, she was not very successful, and that frustrated her exceedingly. She hated to fail.

When Olivia had brought the matter up with Elliot, he had merely chuckled at her.

"Olivia, I bid you all the luck in the world, but the maid that wants more time off is very rare indeed."

"But James in New York has a lot of freedom and is paid more, and so is your servant. Why can we not pay the maids more?"

Elliot sighed, but smiled. "Olivia, James is one of those odd sort that longs for freedom, and I was happy to employ him. Clive, on the other hand, was fired by another family, and begged me not to pay him a lot when I took him on. The maids consider more freedom as an insult, they think they don´t do their jobs well, and more pay is a disgrace second only to betraying one's master. I understand your feelings, Olivia, but sometimes it is better to try not to change someone that doesn't _want_ to be changed."

She sighed, reluctant to admit he was right. "Very well. I shall try not to abuse their sensibilities too terribly."

He grinned. "I'll ask for nothing more."

Olivia's mission had to be temporarily set aside almost as soon as it had begun, for her parents came to visit. The average parents might have given their daughter more time to settle in before imposing on her new home, but she was their only child and they'd seen her very little for the past seven years she'd spent at boarding school. Elliot was quite happy for them to visit, and so they arrived barely a month after she and Elliot wed.

Olivia was very eager to see her parents, her mother in particular. She had no better confidant or counsellor than her mother, and she longed for the opportunity to discuss the nature of her marriage and seek advice in obtaining conjugal felicity. Olivia's parents were well-matched and maintained a very happy marriage. If anyone could help her to sort out her confusion, it would be her mother.

By the time the Benson's arrived, Olivia was so impatient to see them that she ran out to meet their carriage. Elliot followed at a more sedate pace.

Olivia ran to embrace her mother as soon as the footman handed her out of the carriage while Elliot greeted her father, who stepped out behind her.

"Oh, Mama," Olivia said, "It is so _very_ good to see you."

"It is good to see you, too, my dear," her mother laughed, releasing her, allowing Elliot a chance to greet her mother and Olivia to hug her father.

"You must be tired," Olivia said. "Let's go inside."

After the Benson's and the Stablers had spent ample time exchanging their news and taking refreshment, Elliot turned to Mr. Benson with a grin.

"Mr. Benson, I suspect our wives wish to have some conversation without our boring company," Elliot said. "Would you like to accompany me on a tour of the grounds?"

"Excellent notion," Mr. Benson said. Thus, the men took their leave, and Olivia was left alone with her mother, just as she had wanted. Olivia marvelled at Elliot's ability to read her mood, although she hoped he had no inkling of her motives. She trusted Elliot implicitly, but she didn't want him to know of her discontent. He would take it as a personal failure, and most likely torture himself with guilt. That, she would not have.

"Well, what is amiss, my dear? You seemed out of sorts when you met your father and I today."

"Do not mistake me, Mama," Olivia said. "I do not regret my choice at all. Elliot is my closest friend, and the best, kindest man I know. I could not ask for a better husband. But I fear that…that there is something…lacking, in our marriage."

Mrs. Benson eyed her appraisingly. "Olivia, forgive my frankness, but are you speaking of your nocturnal activities?"

Olivia blushed, but nodded, eager for her mother's counsel.

"I am sure the experience was not at first pleasant for you, and it may yet be rather uncomfortable, but I think you will find that –"

"Oh, mama, no!" Olivia interrupted. "That is to say, that is not the problem. It _cannot_ be the problem, for Elliot and I…we have not yet shared a bed."

Mrs. Benson sat back in her chair, wearing a contemplative expression. "Have you discussed this with your husband?"

"I have," Olivia said miserably. "He did not come to me on our wedding night, as I was given to understand he would. I went to him instead, to attempt to understand our situation, and he informed me that he wished not to…er…partake, until it was absolutely necessary. To produce an heir. His excuse was that he did not wish to cause me undue pain, and I do not doubt his sincerity, but…"

"You suspect he has other reasons," her mother finished for her, with all the astuteness that she had inherited.

"Yes."

Her mother nodded thoughtfully. "Olivia, I know you must be thinking with your own insecurities. He may have other reasons, but they may be other than you have in mind. Many a young man is unsure of himself. Perhaps he wants encouragement."

Olivia mulled over this idea. Elliot had no experience in love; she wondered if he had even seen a lady naked before. Perhaps he only feared his own ignorance. Perhaps she needed to approach him once more.

Then another thing her mother had said came to mind. "Will it really be uncomfortable beyond the first time?" she asked.

Her mother smiled that knowing smile that she'd so often seen on married women. "As you know, it will be painful the first time, and there may yet be some lingering soreness," she said. "But I think you will find that, if your husband is considerate enough, and willing to learn, it can become quite the…rapturous experience."

Olivia tried valiantly not to imagine her mother and father in any such raptures, but she did dare to hope. "My husband is very considerate."

Mrs. Benson chuckled. "I dare say you will find your marriage a very happy one in time."

Never one to dawdle, Olivia translated her mother's advice into action that very night. After her parents had gone to bed on the other side of the house, and after Elliot had bid her goodnight at her door, Olivia´s maid helped her into her most flattering nightgown. She dismissed the maid shortly after, and instead of going to her neatly turned down bed, she went to the door connecting to Elliot`s bedroom.

With little more than a knock, Olivia entered before she could lose her courage. Elliot had dressed for bed, but had not yet extinguished his candle. He stood next to his bed with a book, looking at her with surprise.

"Olivia?Is something the matter?"

She swallowed."May I lie with you?"

Elliot hesitated, turning away under the pretence of setting down his book.

"It should not be indecent," Olivia pressed. "We are married, are we not?"

Elliot smiled with only half his mouth and nodded. He sat on the edge of his bed and gestured behind him. "Make yourself comfortable."

Olivia noted with some amusement that his chambers were decorated in the very same colours as hers, before she slipped between the soft white sheets. Elliot did the same on the other side of the bed, and to her relief, extinguished the candle flame between his thumb and forefinger. She didn't know if she could say what she wanted to it in the light. Better if he couldn't see her blush and she couldn't see his reaction.

A little thrill shot down her spine as she turned under the blankets to face her husband. This could be the night. Her curiosity might finally be satisfied. She'd learn whether she was to find passion or indifference in her husband's embrace. If she was lucky, she might discover the 'rapturous' experience her mother had spoken of and be initiated into that forbidden world of pleasure she'd heard spoken of in hushed tones.

"Elliot…should we not…begin our family soon?" she asked, phrasing it as delicately as possible.

Even in the space between them, she could feel him tense.

"There is plenty of time for children," he said. "Are you eager to have them so soon? You have just begun your defence instruction…."

Olivia swallowed, feeling her plan slipping away like sand. "I am not impatient," she said. "But…children do not always come easily. Perhaps it is better to start trying."

Elliot was silent for a second too long for her comfort, and all her worries came forward at once.

"Unless, of course, you do not find me desirable. You need not hide that from me. It would be better if I knew –"

"Olivia," he interrupted firmly. "It is not that I find you or the idea unappealing. It shall happen when the time is right."

Her mind struggled with the possibilities. Was her mother right about his reluctance, or was he lying to escape injuring her feelings?

"Do you not even wish to kiss me?" she asked, trying and failing to make out his eyes in the darkness.

After a time, Elliot asked, "Do you wish to be kissed?"

Olivia remembered the kiss with which they'd sealed their marriage and realized she did want to be kissed, very much, if only to find out if the second kiss would feel as lovely as the first. She did not want to give her feelings away, however, if he did not return them, for that, too, would leave him tortured with guilt.

"I wish to make you happy," she said truthfully.

Olivia felt his hand come to rest on her upper arm as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Do not doubt yourself, Olivia. I am happy. You make me happy. Sleep now, my dear."

Elliot then took her into his arms, which would have been a comfort to her, had she not been convinced of the platonic nature of the embrace.

She had her answer now. Elliot did not want her, not as anything but a quiet, complacent companion, and this time, she could not deny the cause of her disappointment. She knew now that she loved him in the one way he did not, and probably would never.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Taking a Tumble

Elliot watched his wife and Cragen duelling in the library, surrounded by a safety net to protect both of them and the room around them. Olivia was fighting fiercely, although Elliot sensed that Cragen was still holding back a bit, which he was grateful for. His wife's ambitions were sometimes larger than her physical capacity. But she tried.

Elliot was feeling a little more protective of Olivia than usual, although he suspected she needed to be protected from him more than anything else. She'd come to him again last night, looking like a beautiful dream in her thin summer nightgown, that he'd almost used the excuse she gave him of procreating to make love to her. Once again, however, the thought had come – this time all too vividly – of his wife lying rigidly beneath him, little more than a prop to be used for his pleasure. That he could not bear.

She'd felt so _delicate_ in his arms as well, so soft and fragile and warm that he felt more profoundly than ever the need to guard her, to preserve her and her spirit in any possible, by any means necessary. She was so pure and sweet. He could not blemish that by taking her with anything less than love – true and requited love.

The indifference Olivia seemed to feel at his refusal convinced him of the correctness of his behaviour. If she had felt any of the passion that was growing within him for her, any of the longing, then surely she could not have accepted his rejection so passively.

Just as he was beginning to become lost in his musings, Cragen managed to hit Olivia with a soft punch, and she fell to the floor shrieking with laughter. Olivia smiled as she rolled around on the rug and Cragen stepped forward to help her up.

"Again," she huffed, fighting through a tangle of skirts to stand. "I need more practice."

Breathing hard, Cragen chuckled and replied, "Mrs. Stabler, I have not your speed of recovery. Perhaps you can convince your husband to assist you while this old man rests."

Olivia looked to him challengingly, eyes flashing with determination. "Elliot, will you?"

Elliot hesitated, not because he feared hurting his wife, but because he knew he could not – and his tentativeness would anger her to no end.

"Very well," he replied, feeling she would be less insulted if he made an attempt, at the very least.

"Think you can best me?" she taunted, grinning.

Elliot could only smile vaguely. If he could use the full extent of his strenght against her, he could overpower her within seconds, but this would cause her pain…so, no, he could not best would let her try to best him.

"On three," she said. "One, two, three!"

Elliot moved into a protective position before she could finish the word "three." Thus, their duel began, but it had little opportunity to progress further because Mr. Benson came into the room and took issue with the events transpiring therein.

"What are you doing to my daughter?" he barked at Elliot, rushing forward as if to shield Olivia.

"We were duelling," Elliot said.

"_Duelling_?" Mr. Benson said incredulously. "But she's a woman!"

"Papa!" Olivia interjected.

"She wishes to learn," Elliot said as coolly as possible, but inwardly he was bristling with anger.

"She could be hurt!"

At this, Elliot did take offence. "I would _never_ knowingly hurt your daughter, _sir_, and there are nets in place to prevent accidental injury. She is quite safe."

Mr. Benson shook his head vehemently and stormed out of the room.

Elliot struggled to calm himself as he turned to Cragen. "Are you prepared to resume duelling?" he asked.

Cragen nodded. "Certainly."

Elliot nodded to Cragen and his wife and strode out of the room, seeking a way to clear his thoughts.

eoeoeoe 

For the first time since her arrival, Olivia felt the need to escape Stablers Manor. After the spat between her husband and father the day before (and she could characterize it as nothing more manly than that, silly as they were being), the mood in the house had been very tense. Elliot brooded, her father glowered, and she and her mother could only shake their heads in exasperation.

Today her mother was doing her best to distract his father from his current ill-will toward his son-in-law, and Olivia thought it best to let her own husband brood in peace – especially because he tended to snipe at her when she tried to make him see sense. So she'd leave them all to their private woes, and she would make an excursion onto the grounds, to explore some of those nooks and crannies yet uncovered.

It was a cloudy, rather muggy day, and she knew she ran the risk of being caught in the rain, but she didn't cared at all. So long as she could have a little peace and solitude, a little water was nothing.

Today's wanderings led Olivia along a quietly trickling spring located on the edge of their property. It led her into a thick wood, but she pressed on, feeling that the further she was from human contact, the better.

Even had her husband not been brooding or her mother not occupied with reasoning with her father, Olivia felt she could not have enjoyed their society. Her mother might have asked how she was progressing with her husband, and she did not think she could bear the embarrassment of having been refused. And Elliot…

Elliot had always been her closest, most beloved friend. Their relationship had been comfortable and easy, harmonious, almost. They rarely tired of each other or quarrelled, and only then in extreme circumstances. Now, however, she felt a rift coming between them, and she knew it was somewhat her doing. She had broken their agreement of an amicable, friendly marriage by beginning to see him as a man, a man capable of pleasing – loving – a woman. But he did not love her, though she felt herself growing more attached to him with each day, and in that knowledge, how could she be easy in his company?

Deep in thought, Olivia had paid little attention to where she walked, and found herself deep within the forest, where the stream had gone very narrow. Unfasten, she continued, pushing through the undergrowth, until she felt a distinct drop of water hit her face. Looking up through the leaves, she was met with what was quickly becoming a heavy downpour.

Olivia decided she had better turn around then, and took several steps toward doing so, until she slipped on patch of wet leaves – and found herself tumbling down a steep hill.

Then everything went dark. 

eoeoeoeoe 

"Where could she be?" Mrs. Benson asked. Elliot didn't respond as he paced the drawing room and Mr. Benson tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.

Supper was ready to be served, and still Olivia had not shown her face to anyone in the household.

"Anna!" Elliot called, Olivia´s maid.

"Yes, Master?" came her reply before she fully materialized, stumbling.

"Did Mrs. Stabler tell you where she was going?"

"Only that she was going walking on the grounds, sir," Anna said, wringing her hands in her apron. "I told her, Sir, she should not go out when rain was so near, but she wasn't hearing it."

Elliot smiled ruefully. No, she never listened to perfectly sound advice unless it suited her aims.

"Thank you, Anna," Elliot said. "You may go."

The maid disappeared, and he turned to the Benson's. "I'm going to look for her. You may as well eat. I cannot say how long it will take me to search the grounds, even on horse."

Elliot did not wait for their response, but hurried out of the room, down a side corridor towards the entrance to the stalls. A ready maid stood nearby with his coat and gloves. Elliot took them gratefully and took out his best horse.

Moments later, he was out the door and searching his property. He would scan the open areas first, and then, if necessary, venture into the woods. He hoped she had not lost herself amongst the trees, and felt a sense of foreboding at that thought. If Olivia were lost, she would be able to use her instincts to find her way home. If she were not on her way back now, something more sinister must have transpired. Elliot felt sick at the thought.

A thorough perusal of the grounds proved Olivia was not within sight, and Elliot's heart fell further toward his stomach with every minute that passed without the sight of the pile of brown soft curls atop her head.

Resigning himself to the unpleasant, Elliot rode on the edge of the woods, got of the horse, and, on instinct, began to follow a small stream into the trees. He walked deep into the forest, until he was forced to light a lantern to see, and would have continued further, had he not caught a flash of colour out of the corner of his eye.

He saw that he stood atop a steep hill, and, to his horror, he realized the flash of colour was Olivia, sprawled out on the ground in a tangle of skirts, covered in mud and soaked to the skin.

Panic seizing his mind, Elliot fumbled down the hill without thinking, running to her side.

He put a hand to her face. She was so cold, so pale…but he felt a whisper of breath against his wrist, and hope flared within him. She was alive. If she was alive, she could be well again.

Elliot quickly assessed the state of her injuries, seeing bruises, but thankfully, no blood or visibly broken bones.

He quickly picked her up and carried her towards the horse. With Olivia in his arms he went back onto the horse and rode home as fast as he could.

Mr. and Mrs. Benson had been keeping watch and met them at the door, but Elliot just hurried past them, carrying his wife up the stairs.

"What on earth has happened?" Mrs. Benson asked.

"I don´t know. This is the state I found her in," Elliot called over his shoulder. He took her to her room, where Anna was waiting.

"Change her into dry clothes – her nightgown," he instructed, setting her gently on the bed. "And light a fire. She needs to be warmed."

Anna provided a quick job with both of her duties, as Elliot asked for.

He then took his wife's care into his own hands, gathering her into his arms beside the fire, waiting to feel some warmth in her skin under his fingers, and waiting for the moment she opened her eyes.

x


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**I totally forgot to thank my reviewers in the last chapter! So sorry!  
>Somebody send me a PM, telling me I´m not really nice, the way I adress issues about reviews :(<br>SO sorry again if you felt offended!  
>I´m actually a nice person ...lol^^<br>(at least I think so)...  
><strong>

Convalescence

Elliot quickly understood that his wife would not recover any time soon. When she finally woke up, she was groggy and disoriented, and during the night, she lapsed into fever. She was delirious by the time Elliot went to visit her the next morning.

Anna took diligent care of her. Elliot could do little more than just sit beside her, he applied a cool cloth to her forehead while she slept fitfully. Olivia`s parents were in and out to visit, and at one point, Mr. Benson suggested calling a doctor of their acquaintance, but Elliot refused. He and Anna were already doing everything possible; there was no point bringing in another unneeded person.

He had contacted the doctor in town in hopes that some medicine could help his wife, but Anna had already been giving Olivia all the necessary medicine that was recommended. Elliot resigned himself to the fact that he could only wait and hope for her recovery, but that did not make him any less worried.

As each hour of Olivia´s feverish mutterings continued, Elliot became more aware of the alarming possibility that he could lose her. If she did not recover soon…if she did not return to lucidity…if she could not make it through, he might have to live without her. The thought of being in this house without her, of being all alone there, scared him. Nor was remarrying an option; he had to have Olivia. It must be her face across the breakfast table, her voice in the drawing room, her smile, her laugh…her presence. No one else would do.

He must find a way to save her, Elliot decided, looking to her flushed face, eyes lingering on the delicate eyelashes that brushed her cheeks. Olivia would know what to do. That was the key. He must think like her.

Elliot took a deep breath and forced his mind into some semblance of calm. He must identify the problem and find a way to rectify it. What was currently ailing his wife? What was the greatest threat to her health?

"The fever," he muttered aloud. "Something more must be done about the fever."

In his next breath, he called out for Anna, who appeared immediately.

"Please prepare a cold bath for Mrs. Stabler," he said.

The maid went to her task did not question their masters, nor would they ever offer any reproof for what he was about to do.

"The bath is ready, sir," Anna said, her words beginning before she fully materialized beside the bed.

"Thank you," Elliot said. "That will be all."

The maid left obediently, and Elliot set about his own task.

First he stood and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Then he picked Olivia up and carried her into her dressing room, where the bath waited. She curled toward him like a child, and he was filled with protective tenderness for her, so much so, that the sweat dampening her nightgown was painful to him. He would do anything to make her well again.

Elliot set her down on the stool before the vanity in her dressing room and began to ponder the logistics of getting her nightgown off. Perhaps he should just leave it on. But he'd still have to change it afterwards.

As he was struggling with these thoughts, he realized Olivia`s eyes were open and she was looking blearily at him.

"Elliot?"

"Yes, it's me," he said, brushing the damp hair back from her forehead.

"What's happening?" she asked, swaying a little dangerously.

"You have a very bad fever," he told her."It must be reduced. I'm going to put you in a cold bath, all right?"

Olivia nodded, but Elliot sensed her drifting back into her fever-induced fog.

"Olivia," he called, trying to hold her attention. "Can you stand up for me?"

She mumbled something and stood, wobbling a little. Elliot was able to pull her nightdress up to her hips before she lost her strength and he was obliged to catch her against his chest. He had gained enough ground to remove her nightgown the rest of the way, holding her with one arm and tugging on the fabric with the other. It was a blessing and a curse that he was forced to hold her against him, for he could not see her naked form, but he could feel it, firm and soft and supple against his body and under his fingertips.

Elliot despised himself for lusting after his wife when she was in so vulnerable and helpless a state, completely unawares and unable to give him a good, strong slap, were she so inclined.

Nevertheless, this had to be done, and so he endeavoured to ignore her womanliness as he picked her up and carefully deposited her in the bath.

Olivia whimpered at the cold, but otherwise remained still. Having very little to do now but wait for the cold water to take its effect, Elliot turned his eyes away, trying not to look at the tanned skin and full curves that had already imprinted themselves on his memory. He dare not take another look, lest he lose the fragile control he maintained over his emotions – and over his lust.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Olivia murmured a sound of discontent and turned toward him. He met her eyes, which were watching him blearily.

"It's c-cold," she said quietly, shivering.

"I know," Elliot said. He reached out to stroke her forehead, a gesture that was both a caress and a judgement of the level of her fever.

"How much longer?" she asked, and she looked so frail, so delicate in that moment that Elliot completely lost any preoccupation he'd had with physical attributes. He wanted only to protect her, to keep her safe and well for the rest of his days.

"Until you're not so hot," Elliot said. "The fever must be broken."

Olivia rolled her head back and closed her eyes, and Elliot sat watching her face until the unnatural flush seemed to leave it. He then lifted her from the water and sat her again on the vanity stool to dry her – and in so doing, could not avoid seeing her more intimate areas, which left him uncomfortably and guiltily aroused.

After she was dried, he helped her into a fresh nightgown, and she was lucid enough to navigate her own arms into the sleeves. That accomplished, he carried his wife back to her bed and saw her settled comfortably under the covers. He stood watching a moment, watching her shiver, before he made the decision to remove his boots and climb under the covers, where he held her quivering body to his in a vain attempt to soothe her.

Olivia woke very sweaty and uncomfortable, with a hand grasping hers tightly.

"Elliot?"

"No, it's me, dear," said her mother's voice, a little ways above her ear. Olivia lifted her head to look around her, finding only her mother and her maid in the room.

"What happened?" she asked, sitting up shakily.

Her mother frowned, and Olivia could see the familiar lines of worry in her brow. "I was rather hoping you could tell us that. You went for a walk four days ago, and Elliot found you in a dead faint in the woods in the rain – which, no doubt, was the cause of the illness you've been suffering the days after."

Olivia scoured her memory for that day. "I lost my footing on a bit of wet ground, when it started to rain," she said, recalling the events as she spoke, "and I fell down a hill…and that's all I remember."

"Well, you've given us quite a fright," her mother said fondly, with an undertone of relief that enforced the gravity of the situation for Olivia. She supposed she must have been very ill, to remember as little as she did of the past few days.

"Has Elliot been here?" she asked, not worrying about informality, so curious was she to know her husband's reaction to her illness.

Her mother smiled knowingly. "Oh, he's hardly left your side since he brought you back, and until he was assured that the danger had passed, he took personal charge of your care."

Olivia's heart swelled forcefully, and then shrank back, like a wave crashing on the shore. Elliot's actions were a sign of his love, to be sure – but that love could be quite platonic. That was the love she'd always had.

But perhaps there was something to be said for a love that would keep him by her bedside when she was ill. Perhaps devotion from the man she'd come to love could be just as satisfying as passion.

Perhaps.

"Where is he now?" Olivia asked, oblivious to the amused quirk of her mother's brow.

"Cleaning himself up a bit, I think," she replied. "He only consented to leave when I came in a little while ago, and he seemed to have every intention of returning promptly. Ah, speak of the devil!"

Indeed, the door adjoining Elliot's chambers to hers had just opened, and he entered with a good deal more urgency than she'd ever seen in him before.

"You're awake!" he said, his words heavy with relief, and he came to sit on the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I would say I felt better, but I have little recollection of feeling ill. As of now, I feel well enough, I suppose."

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Or thirsty? You must have something, to begin to recover your strength. Anna, could you - ?"

"Yes, Master!" the maid replied, evidently reading his mind, for she did not allow him to finish speaking.

At that point, Mrs. Benson stood to leave."I must go tell your father the happy news. He's been awful these past few days – you know how sullen he becomes when he's anxious."

Olivia smiled and nodded her agreement with the statement, while she avoided looking too closely at her husband, lest his eager care inflate her hopes too much.

"You've given me the fright of my life," Elliot said as soon as they were alone.

"Yes, I seem to have scared the entire household halfway to death," Olivia joked. "Perhaps next time I shall be more successful."

Elliot shook his head, clearly not amused. "You would not laugh if you had seen what I saw. When I found you in the woods, you were so…so still and cold. I thought, for a brief moment, that I had lost you. And then, you became so ill…I have been in constant dread and terror for days."

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat, taking in fully now the countenance of her husband – the dark hollows beneath his eyes, the lines of worry about his mouth and in his forehead, the paleness of one who has not slept or eaten properly in days. She longed to reach out and caress away all the weariness and anxiety she saw, but she refrained, letting her heart ache for him in silence.

Yes, she decided, perhaps this sort of love was enough.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

**Thanks for the reviews! x  
>I won´t be able to update tomorrow... cause of traveling. But on Wednesday I´ll be back:)<br>4 more chapters to go after that one... bit sad to know it´s comming to an end! But I can´t wait for your response for the last 4 chapters :)so looking forward to it...  
>This chapter is just the lullcalm before the storm!  
><strong>

The Obligatory Ball

Olivia was restrained to her bed for some time longer than she would have wished, mostly because Elliot had ordered the house-maids not to let her out of bed unnecessarily. He did visit her often, bringing her volumes from the library and completely ignoring her displeasure at being so confined. After several days of arguing, she gave up.

It was during one of her husband's frequent visits that she decided to question him on a matter that had been troubling her since her awakening.

"Elliot, there's something I remember from being ill," she told him. "I don't know if I dreamed it or it really happened."

He flushed and fidgeted, and that alone might have confirmed her suspicions. "And what do you recall?"

Fighting a smile – for his discomfort was most amusing – she said, "I seem to remember you putting me in a cold bath, in order to rid me of a fever."

He nodded, looking at his hands. "Indeed, I…I did. I thought, for the sake of your health and your life, even, that there was no other option."

She did not to know what to make of his expression. There were equal parts guilt and remorse in his countenance, but she could not tell from his face what his reaction had been to her nakedness, nor could she recall how he'd looked then. The absence of answers was exceedingly frustrating.

"You need not feel guilty," she said. "I do not blame you; I'm sure I would have done the same. I was only curious, as it would have been a very strange dream to have."

Elliot smiled only with the corners of his mouth. "Indeed…it would."

A long silence followed, full of heavy thoughts on both sides.

"I had a letter from Mr. Tutuola this morning," Elliot announced without any attempt at some segue. "He and his family send wishes of your good health. His mother also sent along an interesting message for me."

Olivia only raised her eyebrow, waiting for some criticism to come, as Mrs. Malone-Tutuola was often as bad as her daughter.

"She tells me that as the owner of such a fine estate, it would be reprehensible of me not to hold a ball here. What do you think?"

"I had not considered the notion," Olivia replied. "While I think Mrs. Malone-Tutuola perhaps has too high an opinion of balls in general, it is the custom of the wealthy to host such events, and it would do you no discredit. If you would like to hold a ball, I should not object."

"But do you feel your strength is equal to the task?" Elliot asked."The burden of hostess is not light."

Olivia scowled. "My strength is the same as it has always been, Elliot. I'm perfectly well, and I should very much like some activity other than lying in bed to occupy my time."

She watched him fight a smile. "Very well then. We should get to work on the guest list soon."

"Now is as good a time as any," Olivia replied.

Elliot gave her a measuring stare, and finally rolled his eyes. "Very well. Get dressed and meet me in the library."

eoeoeoeoeoeoeo

The guest list was quickly decided upon. All of the local families were to be invited, along with many friends and acquaintances from their days at school. Her mother and father would be staying on for the occasion, and the two youngest Tutuolas would be invited to stay at the Manor, as well as their particular friends Miss Alexandra Cabot and Mr. Robert Langan. Mr. Langan had been in their year in school, and Miss Cabot a year younger.

The flurry of planning that commenced shortly afterwards was enough to keep Olivia`s mind thoroughly occupied. Elliot helped a great deal, but having attended very few balls in his life, he had very little idea what went into one. Thus, Olivia had to do the detailed work, and though she'd always thought balls a little frivolous, she found the planning of one rather entertaining.

Quickly, invitations were sent, and Olivia set about obtaining an orchestra, having the ballroom floor polished, choosing the foods to be served, and deciding other such vital matters to a good ball.

The date was set for the end of August, and left Olivia perhaps inadequate time to have the perfect gown constructed for the occasion – not that she was the sort of woman to worry much about her appearance. In this case, however, she had a very small audience in mind, and that was her husband. She desired him, at least, to see her in full splendour, and perhaps rethink the platonic nature of their marriage.

With her mother's assistance and a very good seamstress, Olivia obtained a dress of light blue silk, which flattered her complexion very well, and was designed in such a way to show her figure to great effect. All in all, Olivia was quite satisfied with the ensemble.

The day of the ball approached quickly, and soon it was only three days before the ball, when Mr Tutuola and Miss Katherine arrived, followed the next day by Mr. Langan and Miss Cabot. Olivia only felt uncomfortable at having Miss Katherine in her home, but she did not think the young lady bold enough to search out her husband's rooms, nor did she think her husband low enough to accept an advance of that nature, so she slept relatively easily, given the anxiety she felt about the approaching ball.

The day before the ball would take place saw perhaps one of the oddest breakfasts Stablers Manor had seen in its long history. At one end of the table, Mr. Tutuola was conversing with the Benson's, inquiring as to the many ways in which folk managed daily tasks. Mr. Langan, being a shy, bumbling sort of fellow, was listening quietly to this conversation.

Next to Mr. Tutuola sat Miss Cabot, with Miss Katherine across from her and Elliot at her other side. Olivia seated herself next to Miss Katherine, preferring the unpleasant act of being near her than letting the girl any closer to her husband.

"Thank you so much for inviting me," Alex was saying to Olivia."This is precisely what I needed."

"You're welcome," Olivia said, nodding patiently. The girl had always been on the odd side, but she had proven to be of such loyal and steady character that she could not help liking her.

Miss Katherine was, of course, using the opportunity to attempt to attract Elliot's attention, but he thwarted her plans by engaging himself in the conversation between Olivia and Miss Cabot. Miss Katherine turned to flirt with Mr. Langan, who was so alarmed by her attentions that he spilled his tea right down his shirt.

After breakfast, the men went outside to ride, or in Mr. Benson's case, to watch the three others ride and the women were sent to the drawing room for their traditional sport – gossip. Olivia loathed riding, but she would rather have been out on a horse than confined in a room longer than necessary with Miss Katherine.

Luckily for Olivia, Miss Cabot began talking to Miss Katherine of her typical fantastical ideas, and Olivia was free to whisper with her mother.

"Miss Katherine seems to be quite as shameless as you depicted her," Mrs. Benson said conspiratorially in her daughter's ear. "Perhaps you should advise your husband to lock his door this evening."

Her mother's harsh words made Olivia feel much less guilty in her jealousy and dislike toward the girl. "I think her father might consider reviving the chastity belt, if only for the safety of the men around her."

Mrs. Benson stifled a laugh. "I wonder that you invited her at all."

"Only for her family's sake," Olivia replied. "They were always very kind to Elliot. I would not insult them by snubbing their daughter, much as I might like to."

Her mother smiled. "Well, if it is any consolation, your husband seems to feel as much distaste for her as you do."

Olivia smiled. "Oh, I know. I have no fears on that score. Elliot's much too honourable to ever be unfaithful. I just wish…."

"What, my dear?"

"I wish I knew he were faithful because he'd never want anyone else…because he loved me."

"And I'd like to know what makes you so sure he doesn't," her mother replied, with the smallest of smirks.

eoeoeoeoeo

Early the next evening, Olivia engaged her mother's assistance in dressing for the ball, and sent her maid ;who was being a little too helpful for Olivia´s liking; to help the other maids in their preparations.

Currently, Olivia stood gripping a bedpost while her mother tightened her corset strings.

"Can you still breathe, dear?"

"Yes," Olivia said, although she wasn't sure what she was managing quite met the definition. "Tighter."

"I worry about you, Olivia," her mother said. "I've never known you to be one to work so hard to impress a man – and you do realize the fruitlessness of wooing a man you've already married, don't you?"

"I'd certainly rather not be doing this if I didn't have to," Olivia said – or gasped, more like, as her ribcage was now severely compressed. "But it's him that doesn't realize he's married _me_."

Mrs. Benson chuckled. "If he's truly a man, he'll realize soon enough, trust me."

Olivia sighed "You know, when I agreed to marry him, I feared I might fall in love with somebody else, and regret having accepted him. It never occurred to me that I might fall in love with my husband. I should have known irony would have its way."

"If irony's truly set on having its way, you'll probably find out he's loved you all along and you've gone to a lot of trouble for nothing," her mother said wryly.

"Irony is only that kind in novels, mama."

"Well, if there's anything that can work miracles, it's this gown," Mrs. Benson said. "Let's set it to work."

Several moments later, Olivia stood before the mirror, scrutinizing her reflection. The dress was lovely, a magnificent work of silk and thread, though Olivia did not see the awe-inspiring transformation she'd been hoping for. She saw nothing impressive enough to tempt a man who had yet to see her as a woman.

"Come, dear," her mother said gently. "Let's do your hair now."

While Mrs. Benson was pinning her hair into place and Olivia sat ruminating on the sad beginning to the evening, a timid house-maid Olivia had never seen before appeared.

"Master sends this," she said, holding out to Olivia a black box that appeared to house a necklace, "and he says he hopes it will do, as he's not seen your dress."

Olivia smiled and thanked the maid who quickly disappeared. Her mother had stopped her work to see what the box contained.

Mouth dry, Olivia opened it slowly to find a dazzling necklace of silver and diamonds.

"Good heavens," her mother breathed. "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

Olivia smiled wistfully. "It's probably from the family's collection."

Nevertheless, the diamonds around her throat gave her more confidence than she'd anticipated having when she made her way down the main staircase to meet their guests.

x


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

**Okay arrived safely and I foumd time to update. Hopefully I'll be able to update tomorrow! We're sooooo busy. but as soon as I find a quiet moment I'll promise to update.  
>Can't wait to read your reviews... X<br>**

An Intricate Dance

Olivia came around the bend of the stairs and saw her husband in the foyer, his back turned to her, in conversation with Mr. Tutuola. Miss Cabot stood with them – the other guests had not yet made themselves ready – and it was she who gasped at Olivia´s appearance and thus attracted Elliot`s attention.

Elliot's eyes first showed shock, surprise – a bit more surprise than Olivia would have liked, to be truthful – but then there was something warmer, deeper, something like pride and affection, and something she couldn't place…. While it wasn't the desirous look she'd been hoping for, she couldn't feel disappointed with such a look.

"Oh, Olivia, you look beautiful," Miss Cabot said, and Olivia thanked her, although she never took her eyes off Elliot as she descended the last steps of the staircase and took her place by his side.

"All the women in attendance this evening will be dying with envy of your beauty," Elliot said, with an unusual gruffness to his voice that sent a bit of a shiver down her spine.

"Thank you," she said, trying to control the blush that was burning in her cheeks and sweeping down her neck. It was then that she remembered what was around her neck, and added, "And thank you for sending the necklace. It's beautiful."

He smiled. "It suits you perfectly. I'll have to employ that jeweller again."

Olivia had so convinced herself that the necklace was only a small piece of the family collection that she was taken aback by his statement. "You had this made?"

"Of course," he said. "You ought to have something special, don't you think?"

Olivia might have found some reply, but a very unwelcome voice floating down the stairs, encouraging her to take a firm grip on the inside of Elliot's elbow instead.

Miss Katherine was descending the staircase on the arm of poor, naïve Mr. Langan, chattering gaily about some episode that had evidently occurred at school, while Mr. Langan listened so attentively that he stumbled on a few steps. Miss Katherine was beautifully dressed in a white gown of a quality that had to be well beyond her family's means, causing Olivia to wonder what mischief she'd employed to procure it. The pure colour did little, however, to make Miss Katherine seem at all innocent or demur.

"Why, Miss Benson," Miss Katherine said, very intentionally, "How lovely you look."

"Thank you," Olivia said, bristling at those heavy words – partly because they brought to mind Elliot´s initial slip of her name, and partly because of the implication that Elliot was not, at least in some manner, her husband – "But I am Mrs. Stabler now."

Miss Katherine offered one of her more insincere smiles. "What a pity your dress is rather out of fashion – but perhaps no one will notice."

Olivia clutched Elliot's arm rather more tightly, but he did not come to her aid. Instead, Miss Cabot did.

"I don't know what you mean, Miss Katherine," she said. "Something so elegant could never be out of fashion."

Olivia would not refuse any defence at the moment, but she did wonder how much weight Miss Cabot´s opinion could carry when she wore a gown of a startling pink-orange colour that Olivia didn't think could be obtained in America.

Before Miss Katherine could find a new way to insult her, Elliot stepped in, much to her relief.

"Perhaps you would like to take up your own entertainment while Mrs. Stabler and I await the other guests," Elliot suggested, addressing everyone, and reluctantly, they all followed Miss Cabot, who had taken up Mr. Tutuola´s arm and begun chatting about the little known dangers of whist.

"Do not mind Miss Katherine, or anyone else. You look beautiful," Elliot said, once the others were well out of the room, patting her hand on his arm for reassurance. Olivia would have liked to feel pleased, but provoked by anger and insult, she could only wonder if he did not find Miss Katherine angel-blonde hair and slender figure more beautiful.

Sometime later, when the rooms were positively brimming with guests, the orchestra took up their places, and the time came for the first dance. As the hosts, Elliot and Olivia would be expected to lead this dance, and Olivia had been looking forward to this particular event for some time. While dancing couldn't provide the level of intimacy she would have liked, it did require some level of physical closeness, so she would take what she could get.

The first dance was up-tempo but fairly simple, the second slower and more intricate. Olivia savoured them both, enjoyed every brush of Elliot's hand, every smile they shared, every time she thought she felt his eyes lingering on her. She even appreciated the envious looks other young ladies gave her (although she appreciated them rather a bit less when they moved to her husband).

The dances ended far too soon, and she was forced by the necessity of being a good hostess to surrender him and dance with other gentlemen.

She danced next with Mr. Tutuola, then Mr. Langan, followed by a long series of neighbours and friends from school. Even after they all ceased dancing and took a lengthy rest for refreshment, Olivia had little energy to give to her dancing partners. When another finger tapped her shoulder for the umpteenth time that evening, she turned around with little self-defence – and was thus startled to find herself face to face with none other than the younger Mr. Porter.

"Mrs. Stabler," he said, with a smile that didn't quite manage not to look like a sneer, "May I have the next dance? Or have your charms already ensnared your next partner?"

Olivia swallowed, instincts jumping at the friendly tone in his voice. Malice she could handle in a Porter, but friendliness was something to be especially wary of.

"I'm afraid I've already promised the next dance to my husband," she said, hoping Elliot would assist her in evading the man, but Mr. Porter only smirked again.

"That's strange. I'm sure I just heard Mr. Stabler engage Miss Katherine for the next dance."

Olivia's stomach sank as she realized she'd not only been caught in her lie, but also had her best defence stolen by their malevolent young guest.

"I must have been mistaken," Olivia said as composedly as she could manage.

"Now, you would not be so cruel as to deny me the pleasure of your company for a little while, would you?"

Trapped by politeness, Olivia could find no way to refuse the man, and could only wonder how on earth he had even heard of the ball, as she had certainly not invited him.

Porter kept his movements a little too close for Olivia's comfort, and Elliot, at the other end of the lines, had evidently not noticed them, for he showed no signs of aggravation. She could only resolve not to play along with Mr. Porter`s game, whatever that was, while she waited for the dance to end.

"Tell me," she whispered, as they passed, "What exactly are you planning?

Porter raised a delicate eyebrow at her. "Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Stabler?"

"I know you're not here for the enjoyment of the society," she hissed. "And because you came uninvited, I suspect you have some great motivation to be here tonight."

The touch of his hand to hers made her skin itch "And tell me, what do you suspect my motivation to be?"

"Namely," Olivia said sharply, "to secure yourself as the heir to Stabler´s Manor."

Mr. Porter looked coyly at her, and said with deliberate innocence, "But Mrs. Stabler, as of now, I _am_ the heir."

"Until I bear a child," Olivia said through gritted teeth, not scrupling to speak of such things with the likes of Mr. Porter, "And I'm sure you mean to prevent that."

"Do you think me so greedy?" he replied, pretending injury. "Why, I only came to pay my respects to my relatives. Besides, you seem to suspect me of intending you some bodily harm. There are _much_ subtler, less messy ways to prevent children."

Olivia tensed, following the path of Mr. Porter's eyes to where her husband still danced with Miss Katherine. His words might have meant nothing to her had her husband been looking back at her, offering her his reassurance, but his attention was on his task, and he remained completely oblivious to her plight. That fact alone disappointed her more than any of Mr. Porter's suggestions.

"Oh, do not worry, Mrs. Stabler," Mr. Porter said, uncomfortably close to her ear. "A woman such as yourself will never be want for attention, even if your husband is too busy to provide it."

Olivia felt the slow prickle of tears at her eyelids and blinked them back, hurt mingling with anger as she went through the last steps of the dance. "If that is an offer, Mr. Porter, I suggest you swallow it and choke on it."

He only smirked as he bowed to her and she returned with a reluctant curtsy. "I do look forward to our next encounter, Mrs. Stabler."

Olivia offered him only a curt nod and walked away as quickly as she could without tripping over her own feet or attracting undue attention. She strode out of the ballroom, through the foyer, and down a dark hallway, where the tears finally began to spill.

Elliot had never hated the idea of having a ball so much as when, half-listening to Miss Katherine prattle on about something, he'd realized he would have to be the last to leave it.

"…I just absolutely love that dance," Miss Katherine was saying, "and it seems all the young men have reserved their dances so far in advance that none are free. How silly it is, don't you think, to reserve all your dances before the ball even arrives! It makes spontaneity quite impossible. And you, Elliot, have you already reserved that dance?"

Elliot, not sure what dance she was even talking about, muttered, "Er…no, no I haven't."

He was trying to spot his wife through the many layers of satin and frolicking couples, but was failing miserably. He had hoped, if he could find her, that he could be excused paying a bit more attention to her than his other guests, but if he couldn't find her….

"Well, shame on you!" Miss Katherine exclaimed." Knowing you had that dance free and not asking it of me? Why, you must dance it with me. Come, now, I won't take no for an answer."

He cringed inwardly as he slowly realized he was trapped. He could not now say the dance was reserved for someone else, nor could he refuse without appearing an ungracious host, even if his guest was being imprudent…and how would it look, besides, if he snubbed his own house guest?

Accepting the inevitable, Elliot replied, "Of course, I should be happy to oblige."

Reluctantly, Elliot followed Miss Katherine to the floor.

No sooner did the dance begin than she began to talk.

"Are you quite happy in your marriage, Elliot?"

He winced instinctively at her impropriety. "Yes, I'm very happy" he replied, with a great deal of emphasis.

"Well, I am glad," she said with a slight laugh. "Northing's worse than a bad match. I just wish Mrs. Stabler was as happy."

Elliot almost stopped dancing, her words struck him so. "What makes you think she isn't?"

Miss Katherine smiled slyly. "Oh, well, don't mistake me, she keeps no confidence in me. It's only that now and then she seems rather…discontent, don't you think? You should be careful…not that I doubt Mrs. Stabler's character, but I think you'll find that a wife can take a lover just as easily as a husband can."

He was sorely tempted to walk away at that moment, to abandon this conniving woman, but he knew he could not and instead remained resolutely silent and did his best to ignore her.

"Why, would you look at that," Miss Katherine said as the dance was about to end. "It looks like she's having her first lover's quarrel now."

Elliot followed her eyes to his wife, who looked ready to cry, and looked across to her partner, who, to his extreme surprise, turned out to be none other than Mr. Porter.

He knew his wife to be well above what Miss Katherine suggested, but he did wonder how Mr. Porter had gained entrance to his house, and what he might have done to his wife to send her running out of the room, as she did now, with tears in her eyes.

Elliot gave a brisk bow to Miss Katherine and a muttered, "Excuse me," before following after his wife.

The foyer was empty when he stepped into it, and he did not quite know where his wife would go this evening. He started with the library, knowing she was wont to hide there when upset – well, she was wont to hide there whatever the circumstance – but he could not find her among the stacks. He tried the corridors to the back of the house, but saw no sign of her.

By the time he returned to the foyer, he found her there, standing as composedly and calmly as-you-please, hands folded in front of her as she caught sight of him.

"There you are," she said, as if _she'd_ been the one scouring the house for _him_. "Some of ours guests are preparing to leave. We must see them off."

Elliot could still see traces of tears in her eyes, but decided to say nothing until they could speak privately.

As Olivia had said, their guests were preparing to leave, and over the course of an hour and a half, they bid goodbye to all but their house guests. Mr. Porter never did make another appearance, and Elliot worried that he might still be in the house, intending some harm to him or his wife, but Olivia seemed thoroughly unconcerned. He took this as a sign, at least, that Porter had not done immediate harm to her, and relaxed slightly as they said goodnight to the Tutuolas, Miss Cabot, and Mr. Langan.

Elliot then turned to speak to his wife, but found that she was already halfway up the stairs and not looking back at all. Deeply unsettled, he called a trusted house-maid to give her his final orders for the night, particularly to search the house for any unwanted Porters, and set off in pursuit of his fleeing wife.

x


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

**Thx for the reviews. bit in a rush now... have fun with the chaper and let me know what you think ^^!**

Lovers

Olivia retreated quickly to the safety of her bedchamber. She wanted to be away from everyone, all the Miss Katherine s and Mr. Porters conspiring to destroy her happiness, all the sympathetic faces, and most of all, the husband that seemed to want anything but her.

Battling tears, Olivia called her maid to help her out of her dress. The maid worked quickly and quietly, without asking questions, and the maid had helped her out of her dress and undone half her corset ties when a knock sounded firmly on the door, and the visitor entered without waiting for reply.

Olivia had expected to see her mother – no one else would have dared barge into her room, or so she thought – but instead she found her husband, looking to be in such a confused mess of emotions that she couldn't tell if he was angry, worried, or distressed himself.

He glanced briefly at her in her state of _dishabille_ and then to her maid "Leave us, please, Anna."

The maid had grown to be very loyal to Olivia, but she would not dare disobey the master of the house, and so Olivia was left to face her husband alone, in her undergarments, no less.

"Liv," he said, closing the door behind him. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" she said, turning away so that he would not see any more of her tear-stained face.

"You danced with Mr. Porter and then ran out of the room in tears, Liv. What did he do to you?"

"Nothing, Elliot. He just talked." She wanted to enjoy his concern, wanted to tell him the horrible things Mr. Porter had said, but at the same time she was angry, and proud. He hadn't been there when she needed him, and she would never admit how much that had hurt, not as long as she had the façade of a content wife to uphold.

"Then what's wrong, Liv?"

Olivia felt the bitterness welling in her stomach, bubbling with unexpressed frustrations, and she lost her powers of restraint. She whirled around to face him.

"What's _wrong_? What _isn't_ wrong, Elliot? We've been married for two months and you've yet to touch me, though I've offered myself to you, twice, and in the meantime, we have a guest in our house determined to be your mistress and a relation trying to seduce and manipulate me to keep me from having your child – not that it matters, since you'll never give me the chance!"

"Is that why Porter was here?" Elliot asked, and Olivia could have slapped him for so effectively missing the point.

"Yes, that's why he was here…why else?" She looked at him carefully and then wanted to slap him all over again for what she saw. "You were wondering if I invited him, weren't you? Oh, that's rich…I'm not the one who keeps taking Miss Katherine into his house!"

Elliot crossed his arms. "Do you think so little of me, then? Do you really believe that I would be unfaithful to you, and within our own house, no less? You know I care nothing for Miss Katherine, and so it doesn't matter what she wants. She can do no harm."

Olivia clenched her jaw as she felt tears slipping unbidden down her cheeks. "No harm to you, I suppose, but she's done nothing but insult me since she came – and tonight, you were too busy accommodating her to notice that I _needed_ you."

Elliot had the decency to look ashamed. "I was only trying to be a good host, Olivia."

"Yes, well, you must be courteous, mustn't you?"

Elliot took a step toward her, eyes dark, and Olivia took an instinctive step back. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

She took in a shaky breath. "It means, Elliot, that that's all you've ever been to me…I'm your wife, remember?"

Elliot pursed his lips. "You could have refused me if you didn't want to be my wife. You knew all along that –"

"I knew you'd never love me, yes," Olivia said, finding it easier to say the words for him than to hear them. "But I thought we'd at least have a _normal_ marriage, that we could be somewhat happy…but our wedding night has long since passed, and we've not once shared a bed. How can this ever be a _marriage_ if we don't even act as man and woman?"

"I never said I couldn't love you," he said quietly, and his voice gave her a shiver and a little burst of hope. "And I thought…I thought I was sparing you."

"Sparing me what, precisely? Because you've not spared me the humiliation and the pain of knowing that my husband doesn't want me.

Elliot stepped closer, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, but she stepped out of reach. He sighed. "It's not that I don't want you, Olivia."

"Then _why_?"

Elliot came closer, and Olivia took another step back, but the bedpost against her back kept her from taking another, and he kept approaching.

"It's because I _do_ want you, Olivia," he said, voice lowering with each slow step. "And that's why I can't bear to do it, not if you're allowing me to out of some sense of obligation. If it happens, I need you to want it as much as I do."

Olivia shivered, feeling his body heat through the scant inches that separated them.

"You never asked me what I wanted, Elliot."

His hand reached up to her bare arm, brushing her skin lightly, and that touch solidified her decision. She knew what she wanted.

"All right. What do you want, Olivia?"

She wanted to return his touch, but wasn't sure exactly how she should. "I want to be with you, Elliot. I want to be your wife."

His eyes were bright, intent, piercing. "Why?"

She swallowed, knowing she could not lie to him now, not when they were this close, not when there was only one answer to give.

"Because I love you."

"Liv, I love you too!"

For a moment Elliot looked as though he would smile, but instead, he kissed her, _truly_ kissed her for the first time. His lips were warm against hers, and surprisingly soft, and the new sensation was overwhelming – but not so overwhelming that she did not long for more.

The hand on her arm slipped down to her waist, and Elliot's lips opened on hers. She could not, nor did she want to, resist opening in return, letting his tongue slide hotly against hers, bringing with it a fresh new wave of sensations. Without thinking, she pressed herself closer to him, putting her arms around his neck. His chest was wonderfully firm against hers as he brought his arms around her middle to keep her there, and she responded to his kisses with nothing short of wild abandon. They were heady, addictive things, and she was lost to them.

He pulled his mouth away, sucking in deep breaths. "Turn around," he said.

"Why?" she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

He smiled, almost wryly. "So that I can finish undoing your corset."

Olivia blushed and turned as requested, leaning against the bed post as his fingers made quick work of the remaining strings, and then it was loose, and she was free of the awful garment. She turned herself back around, smiling at her husband's darkened eyes.

"What of your clothing?" she asked, tugging lightly on his cravat. "Should that not go as well?"

Elliot smiled and she waited for no other response, beginning to undo the useless accessory – she could not look kindly upon it now. His hands settled once again on his hips, and Olivia realized she would not have much help from him at all. Almost irritated, she let her fingers fall shamelessly to the buttons of his coat and undid them as deftly as she could. He shrugged it off his shoulders gracefully.

"If I didn't know better," he said, "I'd think you were accustomed to undressing a man."

"And if I didn't know better," Olivia said archly, "I'd say you didn't know how to undress yourself."

He laughed, a sound which sent a little thrill down her spine in the current setting, and gathered her into his arms once more. "I'd much rather undress you."

"Well," she said, just barely mustering the will to resist such a statement, "I don't want to undress you. You've far too many buttons."

"Oh, very well," he said, and Olivia leaned back against the bedpost, watching his fingers work the buttons of his shirt free. The pause allowed her time to fully understand what was upon her. Elliot would undress himself, then her shift would be removed, and…then they would make love.

She was nervous, she realized, watching Elliot's shirt fall to the floor, but not to the point that she wanted to stop. On the contrary, she didn't think she _could_ stop, especially not now that she was able to truly admire her husband's body. His shoulders were broad, his hips slender, and he was neither scrawny nor overweight, as so many young men of the age were. Rather, he was finely toned, and she wondered how those muscles would feel beneath her fingertips.

Elliot had removed his boots and stockings, and now, barefooted and bare-chested, his fingers went to the fastenings of his breeches. Olivia tried to brace herself for what she would see. She'd learned a bit about the male anatomy from books she wasn't supposed to have seen, but she'd never seen more than a rough illustration. She wasn't sure how different the real thing would be.

Elliot looked up at her, his breeches staying on only by his hands holding them there. "Would you feel more comfortable if…it were dark?"

"No," she said, moistening her dry lips. "I want to see."

He nodded and stepped out of his breeches, and Olivia remained still, looking long and hard at that mysterious thing which separated man from woman. She hadn't expected it to seem quite so…lively. She'd known, from her reading, what would happen when a man became aroused, but she'd not expected it to be quite so protruding and pinkish and…well, _large_.

"Will it…fit?" she asked him uncertainly, paying no heed to the blush in his cheeks.

"It's of no extraordinary size, I assure you," he said, a small smirk of amusement shaping his mouth in a very delectable way. "I'm sure we'll have no harder time than the millions of other men and women on this earth."

Olivia smiled, anxious and excited all at once, and he came toward her again, reaching for her waist. His fingers grasped the thin fabric of her shift. "May I?"

She nodded, mouth too dry to speak, and she felt more and more cool air hit her skin as he pulled the shift up her body and eventually over her head.

She felt the complete exposure of her breasts and her sex, and she was tempted to cover herself, to hide from his intent gaze…but it was that very gaze that made her stay still, because in it she could see appreciation – desire – and that was the very gratification she required.

A brush of Elliot's hand made her shiver. "Do you think, perhaps, we should move to the bed now?" she asked.

Elliot nodded, and as she went around to one side of the bed, he went to the other.

"Er…under the covers?" she asked, uncertain.

"No," he said. "I…I want to see you."

She felt herself blushing again, but she acquiesced, settling down atop the bedclothes. Elliot laid himself beside her, and added to the feel of the soft cloth against her bare skin was the sensation of his fingers grazing her stomach, which leapt at his touch.

She watched him as he ran his hands over her hips and stomach, along her thighs and around the edges of her breasts. She watched his eyes rove over her body, and for the first time, his gaze made her feel…beautiful. His compliments, nice as they could be, had never done as much to tell her that he appreciated what he saw when he looked at her. She felt…cherished.

"Olivia…do you mind if I – "

"You can do whatever you like," she told him, unable to resist reaching up and brushing a lock of hair back from his forehead. "I trust you."

He smiled and kissed her again, his body leaning over hers so that their skin brushed in the most intimate of places, and she felt aroused like she never had before, felt a strong longing for a man's body.

Then Elliot began to do whatever it was he had in mind, moving his lips from her mouth to her jaw, to her neck, to her shoulders, to her chest. Her breath grew shallower and shallower as his lips made their way first to one nipple, then the other, taking each between his lips, and she jumped at the unexpected sensation that flew from her breasts to her sex, warming her from the inside out.

She was disappointed when his lips began to travel again, but far too curious to say anything. His tongue flicked against her navel, and it was not so much the sensation as the look in his eyes that made her gasp. He looked positively…_lascivious,_ and she rather liked it.

His lips pressed the skin beneath her navel, and his hand gently nudged her thighs apart. She opened them nervously and watched him settle between them, and then, with a caress of her inner thigh, he lowered his head to her centre.

Olivia could do little more than gasp as his tongue coaxed from her a new, powerful wave of sensations, travelling up her spine to set her body aflame and cloud her mind. She forgot herself, giving all her attention to the heat between her legs and the man causing it. She'd not known such feelings were possible, had never realized that a man could give pleasure in return – she'd imagined that to be the woman's chore. But instead she lay writhing and producing incoherent sounds as her husband – her Elliot – brought her to peaks she'd never known existed.

She felt her lower body tensing, the heat and sensation pooling deep in her stomach, filling her until the pressure became more than she could bear, and the puddle burst, surging into every vein, and her body fell to complete sexual abandon.

He came over her again, kissing her, and his mouth tasted strange – he tasted of her, she realized, and the thought was so far outside the realm of decorum that it gave her an extra little thrill.

"Liv," he breathed, against her lips, and his eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them as he looked into hers, primal, full of some mysterious power that made her want to give everything she had to him. "Can I…are you…are you ready?"

Olivia smiled, amused with his attempt to put things delicately, and she nodded. "I'm ready."

He settled between her legs, and she felt his hardness against her almost over-stimulated sex as he braced himself on one arm above her and used his other hand to guide his member into place.

The sensation of him entering her was strange, so very strange, but fantastic as well, feeling the hot flesh pushing into those tight folds. He went slowly, breathing heavily, and then she felt the resistance, a feeling of being torn, punctured, and she found herself gripping him tightly, willing herself past the pain.

She'd known it would happen this way, of course, but the pleasure she'd felt had caused her to forget about the impending pain, and when he pushed fully inside, it surprised her.

He held himself still, forcibly. She could feel the tension under her fingertips, even as her body fought against his intrusion.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, head hanging close to her ear.

"Don't be," she said, relaxing slightly as the pain began to recede, and she experimentally reached up to run her fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort. "It's…it's starting to feel good."

Elliot kissed her neck, just beneath her ear, and in that moment, she felt nothing but the delicious fullness of holding her husband inside her. Her husband…he was truly her husband now, she realized. He was now her lover as well as her best friend, the man who would father her children, the man she would grow old with…and now he was here, literally inside her – where he ought to be.

He began to move, one hand on her hip, holding her in place, slowly at first, and she finally understood the allure of intercourse. The sensation of him pulling out and pushing back in, however slowly, was shiver-inducing, a tickling burn that filled her entire body with heat.

She watched him lose himself in her, the perspiration on his brow, his eyes fluttering closed now and then, the tensing of his shoulders, the passion in his gaze. Watching his pleasure made hers all that more acute, and soon she found herself gasping…moaning, even, unable to prevent the sounds from rising out of her throat. He seemed to push harder, faster as her sounds grew louder, and then she felt it…that same tightness as before, the sensation that something was building up inside her that could not be stopped, would inevitably burst if he didn't stop at once – but he didn't stop, and this time along with the explosion came a cry ripped from her lungs as she clenched around him.

He gave an answering cry and drove deeper, harder, and then she felt his seed fill her, hot between their skin.

They both lay panting, jerking with aftershocks, and then they were both very still. He did not move from her, and she did not want him to, feeling lethargic and peaceful under his warm weight.

She felt his lips again, against her neck, and eventually he kissed her mouth, and she returned his kisses without restrain. If possible, she felt even more in love with him now, charmed by his skin that was slightly paler than hers, by his earnest kisses, by the way it felt to have him whisper in her ear. She'd always known he was a good man, a great man, and had adored him for his kindness and bravery and loyalty, but now she knew the sensual side of him as well, and could never separate the two again.

As he broke their kiss, he finally moved away from her, and to her great alarm, moved all the way off the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sounding ridiculously panicked. She simply couldn't bear sleeping by herself after what they'd done, and couldn't believe he could leave so easily.

"I'm putting out the candles," he said, looking back at her with a gentle but amused smile. "I don't think we'll need them any more." It occurred to her then that she was very much exposed, although she was nonetheless intrigued by the view of his backside as he crossed to the candelabra.

Feeling heavy, she lifted herself and turned back the bed-covers to slip beneath them. Elliot extinguished the last candle, plunging the room into darkness, and she heard more than saw him crossing the room again, felt the quick breeze and sinking of the mattress as he came into bed beside her.

His hands reached for her, and she went gladly into his arms, falling asleep against his solid chest with the most contentment she'd ever had.

x


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

**Thx so much for the reviews:)  
>Nearly done with this story! :)<strong>

**Have fun with this chapter!**

Marital Bliss

Elliot woke with the sun that filtered through the sheer curtains of his wife's bedroom. Olivia lay on her side, fast asleep, her hair as wild as he'd ever seen it, and he lay curled around her. The bed-covers were up around their chests and he held her with an arm around her middle. Their naked closeness left his skin tingling.

He couldn't recall a more pleasant morning.

He really ought to get up, he knew; they still had guests who would be expecting them for breakfast. He didn't want to disturb her peaceful, sleeping face, though, and he didn't want to leave this bed, least he find that all the wonderful things that had happened there were only a dream.

Elliot didn't know how long he lay there, watching Olivia sleep, before she began to stir, murmuring and then stretching – languidly, like a cat reaching out with its paws. He felt the moment she realized she wasn't alone, the quick tensing of her arms and legs as she twisted her head around to look at him.

To his heart's joy and relief, she smiled at him.

"You're still here," she said, turning her body over to look at him more comfortably. He saw a flash of her breast and resisted the urge to reach out and caress it.

"I didn't want to leave," he replied, reaching for the lock of hair that fell into her eyes. He pushed it back, behind her ear. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," she said quickly, smiling with some relief. "I didn't want you to leave, either."

It was then that Elliot realized she still didn't understand how he felt about her. Otherwise, she would have known that there was nowhere in the world he would rather be. But did she want his love?

"Liv," he began hesitantly, unable to look away from those dark brown eyes, "last night…when you said…that you loved me, did you…did you mean –"

"I wasn't talking about friendship," she said with a small smile. "I love you, as a woman loves a man."

Elliot´s heart felt as if it swelled within his chest. "I should have told you last night properly, Liv…I love you, too. I think…perhaps I already loved you when I asked you to marry me. I said it was because you were the only woman I'd ever really cared for, but I think there was a reason for that – I think it was because you were the only one I wanted, even if I didn't know it."

Her dark eyes softened tenderly, and her fingers rose to lightly trace his jaw. "I would scold you for not telling me sooner, but I wasn't very forthcoming either, and now…things will be better, won't they?"

Elliot might have smiled back at her, but as he considered her statement, he recalled the previous evening.

"We still have Mr. Porter to contend with, I suppose…."

Olivia´s eyes darkened. "And Miss Katherine, as well."

Elliot frowned and propped himself on his elbow. "What can she possibly have left to do about it?"

"Well, she can't do much of anything," Olivia said, a little smugly, he thought, and it was adorable, "But I suspect she's been working under Mr. Porter's instruction. Last night he told me, essentially, that his plan was 'subtlety.' His intention isn't to harm either one of us, apparently, but to seduce me – and have you enthralled by Miss Katherine in the meantime."

Elliot was tempted to jump out of bed and have Miss Katherine bodily removed from the house, but restrained himself. "I suppose we foiled that plan rather effectively last night."

"Rather," she agreed suggestively, mischief in her eyes. He had hardly the time to feel aroused by that look before she continued on slyly, "By the way, where did you learn to do what you did to me last night? With your mouth, I mean."

The faint blush on her cheeks was the only sign of her discomfort in saying the words, and he grinned at her developing boldness.

"Well, Mrs. Stabler, you're not the only person who reads books she's not supposed to have," he said, recalling the well-illustrated volume his dorm-mates at school had given him when he announced his engagement.

She grinned back, and he was only slightly stunned when she pressed up against him beneath the covers. "For being such a good boy and doing your reading, I think you deserve a reward."

Taunted by the playfulness in her eyes, Elliot responded with enthusiasm, rolling to pin her beneath him on the bed. Her eyes held his steadily, daring him to take her.

"Just what would the nature of this reward be?" he asked, a little gruffly.

"Something like this," she said quietly and seriously, as her hand wrapped around his hardness. He groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder.

"What _have_ I unleashed?" he muttered, somewhat short of breath, as she stroked him with nothing short of diabolical glee.

"There's only one way to find out," she replied, taking her hand away and looking up innocently at him.

Elliot considered reminding her of the guests in the house who were very likely wondering where they were, judging by the amount of sunlight streaming through the curtains, but then thought better of it and kissed her, instead.

Her lips were warm and welcoming, and her body was soft and small and delicate against his as he gathered her closer. Though he knew her strength, her smallness in his arms filled him with tenderness and protectiveness, the same rush he'd felt when he'd found her unconscious in the forest some weeks ago. This gentle creature kissing him for all she was worth was everything to him.

She held him tightly, returning his kisses fervently – because she wanted him too, he realized with a little shock. In his mind, he had yet to fully connect the fact that she loved him to this particular aspect of love. He'd never imagined Olivia would ever _want_ him to touch her, or that she'd want to touch _him_. The concept was somehow staggering.

Elliot pulled away and felt her sigh against his lips; the soft warmth thrilled his soul. He held her warm, steady gaze as he stroked the smooth skin under his fingertips, tracing over her hips, palming her breasts, all with trembling hands. He watched the look of desire intensify in her eyes and knew he would never want anything more than to please this woman who looked at him with such fire.

She whimpered out a strangled moan as he worked his hand lower, holding himself on one arm above her. He watched her eyes flutter closed, her lips fall open, her cheeks flush. All the while, he felt his own desire grow.

"Oh, Elliot," she breathed, squirming rather tantalizingly. "Let me feel you…I want to feel you inside me again."

Those words aroused Elliot like none he'd ever heard before in his life, and he knew only his wife could say them to such effect.

His response was to settle between her legs and slide into that beautiful, warm place he never wanted to leave.

"Oh, God," he breathed as her legs wrapped around him and he gave up on thought.

They were terribly late for breakfast. Olivia entered the dining room first, Elliot to follow subtly after a little later.

"I'm so sorry to have kept you all waiting," Olivia said to a knowing look from her mother, which she ignored for the moment. "I'm afraid I'm not used to such late evenings."

"Evidently, Mr. Stabler isn't either," Miss Katherine commented as Olivia took her seat.

Olivia wasn't sure if a barb was intended in that statement, but she decided she ought to respond as if it were. "Yes, I think last night's exertions quite did him in."

"It was a lovely ball," Alex said, ending what might have escalated into a civil war, and Olivia was thanking her when Elliot made his entrance.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. Olivia didn't meet his eyes, afraid of showing too much in front of all their guests, but he touched her shoulder as he passed her and took the seat next to her. The gesture was a subtle reminder of all that had transpired overnight, of what had changed between them. She glanced over to him, finding his eyes already on hers, and she knew nobody, not Miss Katherine, not Mr. Porter, could come between them.

"We were just discussing how exhausting the ball must have been to keep you in bed so late, Mr. Stabler," said Miss Katherine, right on cue. Now Olivia felt quite certain that Miss Katherine suspected their nocturnal activities – and she desperately wanted to confirm the girl's suspicions. Let her know how her schemes had failed; let her know who the real Mrs. Stabler was.

"Indeed," Elliot answered vaguely. "Especially since we had a few unexpected guests."

Olivia glanced quickly at Elliot and then to Miss Katherine, realizing what he was after.

Miss Katherine looked appropriately bemused, but there was a stiffness to her expression that suggested its lack of authenticity. "Oh? I didn't see anyone extraordinary last night."

"Perhaps they escaped your attention," Elliot said. "I can only wonder how they found a way into the house without my knowledge."

"That is very strange," Miss Katherine said, suddenly very intent on her breakfast tea, and Olivia felt all her suspicions confirmed.

"Very strange indeed," Olivia said wryly, and Miss Katherine threw her a sharp look which Olivia returned in full.

Mr. Langan left them that morning to return to his grandmother's home, where he resided most of the year. Olivia rather wished all her guests had left so that she might be alone with her husband, but fortunately, the Tutuola´s would be leaving in two days' time, and they would take Miss Cabot with them to New York, just in time for the two girls to be transported to school for the next term. Miss Cabot seemed very happy with this arrangement, although the two Tutuola siblings were a little baffled as to how the arrangement had been made at all. That, Olivia mused, was the brilliance behind Miss Cabot oddness.

The afternoon did pass quietly. Miss Katherine evidently decided to forego her attempts to woo Elliot and kept largely to herself. Miss Cabot engaged Mr. Tutuola in an intense conversation as to the possibility of flying doing damage to the air, which Mr. Tutuola argued vehemently against. Elliot and her father had some sort of political discussion, although Mr. Benson did most the talking, as Elliot was not an avid follower of non-magical events.

As for Olivia, she found herself sequestered in a corner with her mother, who unfortunately was the source of her own shrewdness.

"I take it by your late start this morning that you have finally resolved all your marital difficulties."

Olivia felt her face grow very hot. "Yes, we have finally understood one another, and I am loathe to admit you were right."

"About what, my dear?" her mother asked curiously.

"It seems irony can be kind…he did love me all along," Olivia said with a small smile, fighting not to look over at the object of her thoughts.

Her mother did not seem surprised by this information, which Olivia found a trifle frustrating.

"Did he give a reason, then, for his…hesitance?"

"He needed me to love him as well," she said, torn between discomfort and the warmth she felt for her husband.

"I take it he was very _considerate_, then?" Mrs. Benson said slyly.

"Very," Olivia admitted with a blush.

"It seems all is well, then," Mrs. Benson replied, smirking. "Well, your father and I will be returning to New York tomorrow, I think, but you must be sure to let us know when we can expect the first grandchild."

"Mama!"

"Oh, and _that_ is when my impropriety shocks you, my dear? You needn't be so prudish; you _are_ married now."

Olivia rolled her eyes and made every attempt to change the subject.

That night, finally away from all the guests, Olivia walked alongside Elliot toward their rooms, suddenly uncertain. What was the correct procedure now? Would they make love again, or would they share a bed at all?

She stalled uncertainly when they reached her door, and he, still moving, looked back at her with a single raised eyebrow.

"I don't suppose you'd like to stay with me tonight? My bed is exceedingly comfortable."

Olivia smiled. "I would like that."

"Good," Elliot said, taking her hand and drawing her nearer, "because you've spoiled me. I'll never be able to sleep without you again."

Olivia didn't resist as she was pulled into his arms and his lips neared hers. "Yes, I know exactly what you mean.

x

**Let me know what you think:)! plz**

**Last chapter next... oh that makes me sad... have to think of a new storyline...**


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

**thx so much for all the reviews. **

**all good things have to come to an end... and the end is here :)  
>hope you really enjoyed this story as much as I did.<strong>

**xo **

What Goes Around Comes Around

Olivia sighed happily as her husband nestled his naked body against hers. She would never tire of waking this way, of that she was certain.

"We must never have guests again," Elliot muttered into her hair. "This practice of getting out of bed in the morning simply won't do."

Olivia chuckled, although she agreed wholly with the sentiment. "My parents leave today, and the others leave tomorrow. We'll soon have the house entirely to ourselves."

"I look forward to it," Elliot said, making her shiver as he nuzzled her neck. "I have great plans for the library," he added, kissing her shoulder, "and the drawing room…and perhaps the dining room…."

Olivia ignored the tremor that ran through her at his words. "If you tell me about those plans now, we'll never get out of bed."

"That was my hope, yes."

She turned over and met his mischievous eyes. She had been wary of that look in their school days, but now it put butterflies in her stomach.

"Well, it is early yet…."

Elliot grinned devilishly and drew her against him. "That's my girl."

Some time later, more reluctant to get out of bed than ever, Olivia snuggled into her husband's side with a sigh of complete satisfaction. This was the fourth time she had made love to her husband, and somehow, each time was better than the last.

She wondered if she could be pregnant already. Surely it was possible. The thought of having a child with Elliot gave her an unexpected thrill. Before, she hadn't much considered children; she'd assumed she would have them, as wives were expected to do, but she'd felt little either way about the issue. Now, however, she could imagine Elliot looking tenderly upon their first child. If it were a boy, he would teach him to ride and duel…and a girl, he would pamper and protect fiercely.

Unless, perhaps, he didn't really want children. It didn't seem likely, but she didn't want to second-guess him.

Craning her neck to look at her husband, she found him looking back at her. She felt safe in his arms and in his steady gaze. He loved her; she knew that much.

"Do you want children, Elliot?" she asked before the question died in her throat.

"Yes," he said, looking a little wary. "I've always wanted a family. And I'm doing a terrible job of preventing a child if I didn't want one, aren't I?"

Olivia chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you are."

"And you – do you want children? You are, after all, the one who has to bear them."

She read the anxiety in his gaze and almost laughed. "Oh, Elliot, of course I do."

He smiled and a spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. "Good, that's settled, then."

"Oh, no, you don't," Olivia admonished, guessing the meaning of that look. "We're not setting to work now. We have to get out of bed and see my parents off."

"You won't even share a bath with me?" he asked, pouting theatrically.

Olivia wriggled out of his grasp and out of the bed, and pulled her discarded nightgown over her head. "Tomorrow, perhaps, but if we tarry much longer, there's no telling what ideas my mother will get in her head."

After breakfast was eaten and the Benson's had been sent on their way, Mr. Stabler decided to pull Mrs. Stabler down a narrow corridor and into a shadowed alcove, toward the back of the house, near the servants' quarters.

Little did they know, they had been followed.

"Oh – but what if someone comes looking for us?" Olivia protested. "What if a servant comes by?"

"The servants are trained to pretend not to see these things," he answered, "And if our guests don't know better than to follow us into darkened corners, I'd say they're beyond our help."

Olivia began to protest once more, but her voice was muffled and quickly faded away.

Miss Katherine peeked around the corner to find Olivia pressed against the wall, her mouth fastened securely to the mouth of Elliot, who was standing between her legs doing his best to hike up her skirt.

She watched with disgusted fascination and disappointment as happily he ravaged his wife.

What did he see in her? The woman wasn't beautiful, even by unconventional standards, and she certainly wasn't the entertaining sort. She didn't even have a fortune to her name. Why had he chosen _her_?

It should have been her in Olivia's place. She was beautiful and witty. She could have made him just as happy – happier, probably. Why had he never even looked her way?

"Repulsive, isn't it," a voice whispered in her ear, startling her, and the only thing that stopped Miss Katherine from screaming was her fear of being caught. "Look at them, rutting like animals."

"What are you doing here?" Katherine hissed, whirling to face the source of the voice. "If they catch you here –"

"I had to see what progress you'd made," Mr. Porter replied, wholly displeased, "And it looks as though you've failed me miserably, Katherine."

"Don't address me so intimately," she demanded, finding her own back to the wall as Mr. Porter loomed over her. She could hear the moans of the two lovers around the corner and her stomach turned.

"I'll call you whatever I like," Mr. Porter said menacingly, leaning closer. His nose nearly touched her as he continued, "You owe me. I've invested quite a bit in your seduction plans – the wardrobe, the hair, the perfume – "

"I'll give it all back," she whispered, fearing the dark glint in his eyes.

"Keep it," he snarled. "I have no use for any of it. I want something else."

"I can't get any money, if that's –"

He snorted. "Please, Katherine, I know you've never touched a sickle in your life."

"Then what do you want?" she asked with growing fear.

He smirked. "What does any man want but a willing woman in his bed?"

Katherine shook her head, recoiling. "No."

"Oh, so you're willing to become Stabler's mistress, but not mine?"

She wished she could get away from him. "I'd be your whore, not your mistress."

Dean grinned devilishly. "I treat all women like whores, Katherine, but that's no reason you couldn't be my whore and my mistress. Now, think carefully before you answer, …it's your choice, of course, but you _do_ owe me, and it could be that some nasty rumours about your family could be planted in some important ears if you're not careful."

Katherine stiffened and glared. "You son of a –"

"Language!" he admonished. "I'll give you some time to think about it – but we will be seeing each other soon."

He left her quickly and silently, so abruptly that she wondered if he'd ever been there. As Olivia cried out in rapture around the corner, Katherine felt her stomach clench painfully. How had everything gone wrong?

Elliot grunted his release, and Katherine fled to the drawing room on shaky legs.

It was with great joy and relief that Elliot and Olivia saw the last of their guests off the next day. They did not, as one might expect, hasten back to bed or desecrate the drawing room sofa.

Rather, they curled up on the sofa with a couple of books and spent a quiet morning reading, while occasionally Olivia would feel Elliot´s fingers brush against her neck, and she would turn to find him watching her – and now she was free to kiss him to her heart's content.

In the afternoon, he gave Olivia a duelling lesson, which somehow ended with Olivia atop a library table with her husband making every effort to lift her skirts. Unfortunately, that was when Mr. Cragen arrived for a visit.

"Goodness, Elliot," he said, taking one look at the two of them. "You're worse than your father."

Blushing, Elliot tugged her skirts down with great force, and Olivia refused to look Cragen in the eye for the duration of the visit.

After dinner, instead of staying and chatting with them – which she usually enjoyed because Cragen was willing to talk politics with her – Olivia fled to their bedroom with a book. Knowing that Cragen knew what she and Elliot were about to do in the library was too awkward for her to bear at the moment.

Meanwhile, Cragen took her absence as the perfect opportunity to tease Elliot mercilessly – it was what Elliot´s father would have wanted, after all.

"It seems you and Mrs. Stabler have found ways to entertain yourselves without your guests."

Elliot glared, and Cragen pressed on.

"I hope you're not exerting the poor girl too much. Wouldn't want her falling asleep in the middle of training."

"I'm sure there will be no such problem."

"Have you considered a bed? Tables can be very hard on the back –"

"We generally do use the bed," Elliot gritted out, face bright red. "We just weren't expecting company today."

Cragen couldn't help grinning. "All jokes aside, I'm glad you've worked things out with your wife. You were obviously well-suited for each other."

Elliot blinked owlishly. "What makes you think we had anything to work out?"

Cragen smiled. "No happily married man could look as sexually deprived as you did, Elliot."

Elliot flushed again, but smiled. "I asked her to marry me because we were good friends. It didn't occur to me until much later that I loved her…or that she could ever love me."

"Well," Cragen said, standing and clapping Elliot on the shoulder, "I'm glad you've figured it all out. If anyone deserves a happy marriage, it's you. I'll leave you now; you can go finish what I interrupted."

He left with Elliot´s swearing at his heels.

**Epilogue**

Elliot had never been so terrified in his life.

Olivia was giving birth to their first child.

Oh, he was elated, to be sure. He'd always wanted a family of his own. As a child, his one wish was to have his parents back, and along with them a horde of brothers and sisters. The next best thing was to have his own horde of children – and now that he'd fallen for Olivia and found in her the most wonderful wife he could imagine, he knew he'd have the perfect family with her. Little children raiding the in the library and crashing the whole house…he couldn't wait, and he couldn't wait to create a second child with his beautiful wife.

He also knew the risks, however. Everyone knew the dangers inherent in childbirth that claimed so many young women, and he couldn't bear the thought. Losing Olivia would destroy him, completely – he needed her. He needed her beside him each night, to smile at him each morning, to help him raise their children…he didn't think he could do it without her. Even if he knew the first thing about being a father, which he didn't, a child needed a mother…and he didn't think he would ever find a woman worthy to take Olivia's place.

Each sound of pain or distress from the bedroom they'd set up for the birth, the doorway of which he was pacing outside, unsettled him a little more. He wished he could go inside and be with her to at least hold her hand, but Mrs. Benson and the doctor had forbidden it. Birthing was difficult enough, they said, without a man panicking, and he couldn't deny that he probably would panic at the smallest sign of trouble.

A hand on his shoulder interrupted his pacing. Elliot turned to see Cragen smiling amusedly at him. "Relax, Elliot," he said. "She's a strong woman – she'll be just fine."

He sighed and nodded. "I keep telling myself that, but I can't help worrying."

"Your father was the same way," Cragen said. "Even John's special whiskey couldn't calm him down."

Elliot laughed. "Special?"

"Intensified, of course," Cragen grinned.

A sharp cry from Olivia caused Olivia to turn toward the door, blanching. Cragen patted him on the back. "Try to remain calm."

Needless to say, he was anything but calm as Olivia´s sounds of pain intensified minute by minute. He was about to burst through the door and demand to know who was torturing his wife when another cry stopped him – a different kind of cry. A baby's cry.

Elliot rushed in the door, and then immediately regretted it. The bed was a bloody mess and the doctor was holding up a strange, purplish, gunk-covered creature.

"A girl," the doctor announced to the room at large, and Elliot finally met his tired wife's eyes.

Her lids were drooping and her brow and hair were drenched with sweat, but a quiet joy filled her eyes, and it touched his soul. He didn't know it was possible, but he loved her more than ever.

He hurried to Olivia's side and kissed her soundly, in spite of the presence of the doctor and Mrs. Benson. She smiled at him. "We have a daughter."

Elliot grinned. "So we do. You're amazing, Liv."

She let out a shaky laugh as he helped her sit up. "I'm sorry I didn't give you an heir, though. Next time, perhaps."

"Actually," Elliot said as she leaned against him, "I managed to change the clause entailing the estate away from the female line. It doesn't matter if we have ten daughters; the estate will stay with them."

She beamed at him, but then her smile turned wry. "I hope you know I don't intend to have ten of anything."

Elliot laughed, but was distracted as the doctor approached with the newly-cleaned child bundled in a fresh blanket. Olivia took her gratefully, cradling her head with infinite tenderness. Elliot felt his heart clench as he watched his wife and daughter – his family.

"Isn't she beautiful?" she said quietly, angling herself so that Elliot could see the baby better.

"She is," Elliot said, looking down at the tiny face. She was sleeping already, evidently exhausted from being born – for which he couldn't blame her. Her head boasted a riot of fuzzy, dark brown curls. He could already tell that she would have Olivia's pert little nose, and he wondered what colour eyes she would have. Her mouth moved absently and her tiny fingers flexed against the edge of the blanket.

"What shall we call her?" Olivia asked, her voice tight with unshed tears. He knew his voice would sound the same.

"I don't know. I think she needs a name as pretty as she is."

Olivia stroked her small hand absently. "What about Charlotte? We can call her Charlie …."

Elliot wrapped his arm about his wife's shoulders "Sounds perfect to me."

The End


End file.
